mm 

(ID 


DUKE  UNIVERSITY 


WILLIAM  R.  PERKINS 
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Marion  inviting  a British  Officer  to  Dinner.— Page  179. 


THE  LIFE 

> * 

OF 

FRANCIS  MARION 


BY 

W.  GILMORE  SIMMS. 


“The  British  soldier  trembles 
When  Marion’s  name  is  told.” 

Bktant. 


NEW  YORK: 

DERBY  & JACKSON,  119  NASSAU  STREET. 
1857. 


Entered  according  to  tlie  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1841,  by 

HENRY  G LANGLEY, 

la  the  Clerk’s  office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of 
New  York. 


4,,,7 

2.  3.  y?  3 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  L page 

L .reduction — The  Huguenots  in  South  Carolina, 1 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Marion  Family — Birth  of  Francis  Marion — His  Youth — 
Shipwreck, 24 

CHAPTER  III. 

Marion  a Farmer — Volunteers  in  the  Cherokee  Campaign, 32 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Cherokee  War  continues — Marion  leads  the  Forlorn  Hope  at 
the  Battle  of  Etchoee, 44 

CHAPTER  V. 

Marion  is  returned  for  the  Provincial  Congress  from  St.  John’s, 
Berkeley — Made  Captain  in  the  Second  Regiment — Fort 
Johnson  taken — Battle  of  Fort  Moultrie, 53 

CHAPTER  VI. 


From  the  Battle  of  Fort  Moultrie  to  that  of  Savannah — Anec- 
dote of  Jasper — His  Death, 76 

CHAPTER  VII. 

From  the  Battle  of  Savannah  to  the  Defeat  of  Gates  at  Cam- 
den,   

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Organization  of  Marion’s  Brigade — Surprise  of  Tories  under 
Gainey — Defeat  of  Barfield — Capture  of  British  Guard  with 
Prisoners  at  Nei  eon's  Ferry, 


Si  ZPi 


113 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IX.  k-Aoe 

Marion  retreats  before  a superior  Force — Defeats  the  Tories  at 
Black  Mingo — Surprises  and  disperses  the  Force  of  Colonel 
Tynes  at  Tarcote — Is  pursued  by  Tarleton, 130 

CHAPTER  X. 

Marion  attempts  Georgetown — Horry  defeats  Merritt — Moul- 
trie defeated  by  Barfield — Gabriel  Marion  taken  by  the  To- 
ries and  murdered — Marion  retires  to  Snow’s  Island, 104 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Marion’s  Camp  at  Snow’s  Island — The  Character  of  his  War- 
fare— Of  his  Men — Anecdotes  of  Conyers  and  Horry — He 
feasts  a British  Officer  on  Potatoes — Quells  a Mutiny, 165 

CHAPTER  XII. 

General  Greene  assumes  Command  of  the  Southern  Army — 

His  Correspondence  with  Marion — -Condition  of  the  Coun- 
try— Marion  and  Lee  surprise  Georgetown — Col  Horry  de- 
feats Gainey — Marion  pursues  Mcllraith — Proposed  Pitched 
Battle  betwixt  Picked  Men, 186 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Watson  and  Doyle  pursue  Marion — He  baffles  and  harasses 
them — Pursues  Doyle — His  Despondency  and  final  Resolu- 
tion,   214 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Marion  renews  his  Pursuit  of  Doyle — Confronts  Watson — Is 
joined  by  Col.  Lee — Invests  and  takes  Fort  Watson — Fort 
Motte  taken — Anecdote  of  Horry  and  Marion, 228 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Correspondence  of  Marion  and  Greene — Anecdote  of  Colonel 
Snipes — Marion  takes  Georgetown — Attempt  of  Sumtei 
and  Marion  on  Col.  Coates — Battle  of  Quinby  Bridge, 240 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Marion  moves  secretly  to  Pon-Pon — Rescues  Col.  Harden — 
Defeats  Major  Frazier  at  Parker’s  Feiry — Joins  the  main 
Army  under  Greene — Battle  of  Eutaw, 262 


* } 


CONTENTS. 


V 


CHAPTER  XVII.  pash 

Retreat  of  the  British  from  Eutaw — Pursuit  of  them  ay  Marion 
and  Lee — Close  of  the  Year, 277 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Marion  summoned  to  the  Camp  of  Greene — Defeats  the  British 
Horse  at  St.  Thomas — Leaves  his  Command  to  Horry',  and 
takes  his  Seat  in  the  Assembly  at  Jacksonborough,  as  Sena- 
tor from  St.  John’s,  Berkeley — Proceedings  of  the  Assembly 
— Confiscation  Act — Dispute  between  Cols.  Mayham  and 
Horry — The  Brigade  of  Marion  surprised,  during  his  ab-  * 
sence,  by  a Detachment  from  Charleston — Marion’s  Encoun 
ter  with  the  British  Horse — Conspiracy  in  the  Camp  of 
Greene, 288 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Marion  summoned  with  his  Force  to  that  of  Greene — Insurrec- 
tion of  the  Loyalists  on  the  Pedee — Marches  against  them — 
Subdues  them — Treats  with  Gainey — Fanning— Protects 
the  Tory,  Butler,  from  his  Men — Returns  to  the  Country  be- 
tween the  Santee  and  the  Cooper — Moves  to  protect  George- 
town from  the  British  Fleet — Defeats  the  British  Cavalry 
under  Major  Frazier, 310 

CHAPTER  XX. 

The  British  propose  Terms  of  Pacification — Rejected  by  the 
Civil  Authorities — They  penetrate  the  Combahee  with  their 
Fleet — Death  of  Col.  Laurens — Anecdote  of  Marion — Death 
of  Wilmot — The  British  evacuate  Charleston — Marion  sepa-  * 
rates  from  his  Brigade  at  Watboo — His  military  Genius, 324 

CHAPTER  XXL 

Marion  retires  to  his  Farm,  which  he  finds  in  Ruins — Is  return- 
ed to  the  Senate  from  St.John — His  Course  on  the  Confisca-  1 
tion  Act — Anecdotes — Is  made  Commandant  at  Fort  John- 
son— His  Marriage — A Member  of  the  State  Convention  in 
1794 — Withdraws  from  Public  Life — His  Death, 333 


5 ’!Z  Pi 


NOTE. 


'n  preparing  ihis  biography,  the  following  works  have  been  consulted  . 

1.  A Sketch  of  the  Life  of  Brig.  Gen.  Francis  Marion,  and  a His- 
tory of  his  Brigade,  kc  By  Wa.  Dobein  James,  A.  M.  Charles- 
ton, S.  C.  1821. 

2.  The  Life  of  Gen..  Francis  Marion,  &c.  By  Brig.  3en.  P.  Kerry, 
and  M.  L.  Weems.  Philadelphia.  1S33. 

3.  A MS.  Memoir  of  the  Life  of  Brig.  Gen.  P.  Horry.  By  Himself. 

4.  Sketches  of  the  Life  and  Correspondence  of  Nathanael  Greene, 
kc.  By  William  Johnson.  Charleston.  1822. 

£>.  Memoirs  of  the  American  Revolution,  kc.  By  William  Moul- 

% trie.  New  York.  1802. 

6.  Anecdotes  of  the  Revolutionary  War  in  America  (1st  and  2d 
series).  By  Alex.  Garden.  1822  and  1828. 

7.  Memoirs  of  the  War  in  the  Southern  Department  of  the  United 

States.  By  Henry  Lee,  &c.  Philadelphia.  1812. 

8.  Memoirs  of  the  American  Revolution,  &c.,  as  relating  to  the  State 
of  South  Carolina,  kc.  By  John  Drayton,  LL.D.  Charleston, 
1S21. 

9.  The  History  of  South  Carolina,  &c.  By  David  Ramsay.  Charles- 
ton. 1809. 

0.  The  History  of  Georgia,  kc.  By  Capt.  Hugh  M‘Call.  Savan- 
nah. 1811. 

11.  A History  of  the  Campaigns  of  1730  and  1781,  in  the  Southern 
Provinces  of  North  America.  By  Lieut.  Col.  Tarleton,  Com- 
mandant of  the  late  British  Legion.  London.  1797. 

12.  Strictures  on  Lieut.  Col.  Tarleton’s  History,  &c.  By  Roderick 
Mackenzie,  late  Lieutenant  in  the  71st  Regiment,  &c.  London 

% 1787. 

13.  History  of  the  Revolution  of  South  Carolina  from  a Britisn  Pro 
vince  to  an  Independent  State.  By  David  Ramsay,  M.  D 
Trenton.  1785. 

1 4.  An  Historical  Account  of  the  Rise  and  Progress  of  the  Colonies 
of  South  Carolina  and  Georgia.  (Hewatt.)  London.  1779. 

15.  A New  Voyage  to  Carolina,  kc.  By  John  Lawson,  Gent. 

Surveyor-General  of  North  Carolina.  London.  1709. 

10.  The  History  of  the  Rise,  Progress,  and  Establishment  of  Ihe 
Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  kc.  By  William 
Gordon,  D.  D.  New  York.  17S9. 

S7  Five  volumes  of  MS.  Letters  from  distinguished  officers  of  the 
Revolution  in  the  South.  From  the  Collection  of  Gen.  Petei 
Horry,  in  the  possession  of  Dr.  R.  W.  Gibbes,  of  S.  Carolina. 


t . 

•u 


PREFACE. 


The  facts,  in  the  life  of  Francis  Marion,  are  far  less  generally 
extended  in  our  country  than  his  fame.  The  present  is  an  attempt 
to  supply  this  deficiency,  and  to  justify,  by  the  array  of  authentic  par- 
ticulars, the  high  position  which  has  been  assigned  him  among  the 
master- workers  in  our  revolutionary  struggle.  The  task  has  been  a 
difficult,  but  I trust  not  entirely  an  unsuccessful  one.  Our  southern 
chronicles  are  meagre  and  unsatisfactory.  South  Carolina  was  too 
long  in  the  occupation  of  the  British — too  long  subject  to  the  rava- 
ges of  civil  and  foreign  war,  to  have  preserved  many  of  those  minor 
records  which  concern  only  the  renown  of  individuals,  and  are  un- 
necessary to  the  comprehension  of  great  events;  and  the  vague  trib- 
utes of  unquestioning  tradition  are  not  adequate  authorities  for  the 
biographer,  whose  laws  are  perhaps  even  more  strict  than  those 
which  govern  the  Historian.  Numerous  volumes,  some  private  ma- 
nuscripts, and  much  unpublished  correspondence,  to  which  reference 
has  been  more  particularly  made  in  the  appendix,  have  been  con- 
sulted in  the  preparation  of  this  narrative.  The  various  histories  oj 
Carolina  and  Georgia  have  also  been  made  use  of.  Minor  facts  have 
been  gathered  from  the  lips  of  living  witnesses.  Of  the  two  works 
devoted  especially  to  our  subject,  that  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Weems  is 
most  generally  known — a delightful  book  for  the  young.  The  au- 
thor seems  not  to  have  contemplated  any  less  credulous  readers, 


PREFACE. 


and  its  general  character  is  such  as  naturally  to  inspire  us  with 
frequent  doubts  of  its  statements.  Mr.  Weems  had  rather  loose 
notions  of  the  privileges  of  the  biographer ; though,  in  reality,  he 
has  transgressed  much  less  in  his  Life  of  Marion  than  is  generally 
supposed.  But  the  untamed,  and  sometimes  extravagant  exube- 
rance of  his  style  might  well  subject  his  narrative  to  suspicion. 
Of  the  “ Sketch”  by  the  Hon.  Judge  James,  we  are  more  secure, 
though,  as  a literary  performance,  it  is  quite  as  devoid  of  merit  as 
pretension.  Besides,  the  narrative  is  not  thorough.  It  dwells 
somewhat  too  minutely  upon  one  class  of  facts,  to  the  neglect  or 
the  exclusion  of  every  other.  I have  made  both  of  these  works  tribu- 
tary to  my  own  whenever  this  was  possible 

Woodland,  S C.,  May  25.  1844. 


THE  LIFE 


OF 

FRANCIS  MARION. 


CHAPTER  I 

Introduction.— The  Huguenots  in  South  Carolina. 

The  name  of  Francis  Marion  is  identified,  in  the  history 
of  South  Carolina,  his  parent  state,  with  all  that  is  pleasing 
and  exciting  in  romance.  He  is,  par  excellence , the  famous 
partizan  of  that  region.  While  Sumter  stands  conspicuous  for 
bold  daring,  fearless  intrepidity  and  always  resolute  behav- 
ior ; while  Lee  takes  eminent  rank  as  a gallant  Captain  of 
Cavalry,  the  eye  and  the  wing  of  the  southern  liberating 
army  under  Greene ; Marion  is  proverbially  the  great 
master  of  strategem ; the  wily  fox  of  the  swamps — never 
to  be  caught,  never  to  be  followed, — yet  always  at  hand, 
with  unconjectured  promptness,  at  the  moment  when  he  is 
least  feared  and  is  least  to  be  expected.  His  pre-eminence 
in  this  peculiar  and  most  difficult  of  all  kinds  of  warfare,  is 
not  to  be  disputed.  In  his  native  region  he  has  no  com- 
petitor, and  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  compute  the  vast  in- 
fluence which  he  possessed  and  exercised  oyer  the  minds 
and  feelings  of  the  people  of  Carolina,  simply  through 
his  own  resources,  at  a period  most  adverse  to  their  for- 
tunes, and  when  the  cause  of  their  liberties,  everywhere 
1* 


10 


LIFE  OF  MARKS. 


endangered,  was  almost  eveiywhere  considered  hopeless. 
His  name  was  the  great  rallying  cry  of  the  yeoman  in 
battle — the  word  that  promised  hope — that  cheered  the 
desponding  patriot — that  startled,  and  made  to  pause  in  his 
career  of  recklessness  and  blood,  the  cruel  and  sanguinary 
tory.  Unprovided  with  the  means  of  warfare,  no  less  than 
of  comfort — wanting  equally  in  food  and  weapons — we  find 
him  supplying  the  one  deficiency  with  a cheerful  courage 
that  never  failed  ; the  other  with  the  resources  of  a genius 
that  seemed  to  wish  for  nothing  from  without.  With  a 
force  constantly  fluctuating  and  feeble  in  consequence  of 
the  most  ordinary  necessities — half  naked  men,  feeding 
upon  unsalted  pottage, — forced  to  fight  the  enemy  by  day, 
and  look  after  their  little  families,  concealed  in  swamp  or 
thicket,  by  night — he  3till  contrived, — one  knows  not  well 
how, — to  keep  alive  and  bright  the  sacred  fire  of  his  country’s 
liberties,  at  moments  when  they  seemed  to  have  no  other 
champion.  In  this  toil  and  watch,  taken  cheerfully  and 
with  spirits  that  never  appeared  to  lose  their  tone  and 
elasticity,  tradition  ascribes  to  him  a series  of  achievements, 
which,  if  they  were  small  in  comparison  with  the  great 
performances  of  European  war,  were  scarcely  less  im- 
portant ; and  which,  if  they  sometimes  transcend  belief, 
must  yet  always  delight  the  imagination.  His  adventures 
have  given  a rich  coloring  to  fable,  and  have  stimulated  its 
performances.  The  language  of  song  and  story  has  been 
employed  to  do  them  honor,  and  our  children  are  taught, 
in  lessons  that  they  love,  to  lisp  the  deeds  and  the  patriotism 
of  his  band.  £t  Marion” — “ Marion’s  Brigade”  and  “ Ma- 
non’s  men,”  have  passed  into  household  words,  which  the 
young  utter  with  an  enthusiasm  much  more  confiding  than 
that  which  they  yield  to  the  wondrous  performances  ot 
Greece  and  Ilium.  They  recall,  when  spoken,  a long  and 
delightful  series  of  brilliant  exploits,  wild  adventures,  by 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


II 


day  and  night,  in  swamp  and  thicket,  sudden  and  strange 
manoeuvres,  and  a generous,  unwavering  ardor,  that 
never  found  any  peril  too  hazardous,  or  any  suffering  too 
unendurable.  The  theme,  thus  invested,  seems  to  have 
escaped  the  ordinary  bounds  of  history.  It  is  no  longer 
within  the  province  of  the  historian.  It  has  passed  into 
the  hands  of  the  poet,  and  seems  to  scorn  the  appeal  to 
authentic  chronicles.  When  we  look  for  the  record  we 
find  but  little  authority  for  a faith  so  confiding,  and  seem- 
ingly so  exaggerated.  The  story  of  the  Revolution  in  the 
southern  colonies  has  been  badly  kept.  Documentary 
proofs  are  few,  bald  and  uninteresting.  A simple  para- 
graph in  the  newspapers, — those  newspapers  issued  not  un- 
frequently  in  cities  where  the  enemy  had  power,  and  in  the 
control  of  Editors,  unlike  the  present,  who  were  seldom 
able  to  expatiate  upon  the  achievement  which  they  record- 
ed ; — or  the  brief  dispatches  of  the  Captain  himself,  whose 
modesty  would  naturally  recoil  from  stating  more  than  the 
simple  result  of  his  performances  ; — these  are  usually  the 
sum  total  of  our  authorities.  The  country,  sparsely  settled, 
and  frequently  overrun  by  the  barbarous  enemy,  was  incapa- 
ble of  that  patient  industry  and  persevering  care,  which 
could  chronicle  the  passing  event,  give  place  and  date  to 
the  brilliant  sortie,  the  gallant  struggle,  the  individual  deed 
of  audacity,  which,  by  a stroke,  and  at  a moment,  secures  an 
undying  remembrance  in  the  bosoms  of  a people.  The 
fame  of  Marion  rests  very  much  upon  tradition.  There 
is  little  in  the  books  to  justify  the  strong  and  exciting  relish 
with  which  the  name  is  spoken  and  remembered  through- 
out the  country.  He  was  not  a bloody  warrior.  His 
battle  fields  were  never  sanguinary.  His  ardor  was  never  of 
a kind  to  make  him  imprudent.  He  was  not  distinguished 
for  great  strength  of  arm,  or  great  skill  in  his  weapon. 
We  have  no  proofs  that  he  was  ever  engaged  in  single 


12 


I.  1 F E OF  MARION. 


combat : yet  the  concurrent  testimony  of  all  who  have 
written,  declare,  in  general  terms,  his  great  services . and 
the  very  exaggeration  of  the  popular  estimate  is  a partial 
proof  of  the  renown  for  which  it  speaks.  In  this  respect, 
his  reputation  is  like  that  of  all  other  heroes  of  romantic 
history.  It  is  a people’s  history,  written  in  their  hearts, 
rather  than  in  their  books  ; which  their  books  could  not 
write — -which  would  lose  all  its  golden  glow,  if  subjected 
to  the  cold  details  of  the  phlegmatic  chronicles.  The  tra- 
dition, however  swelling,  still  testifies  to  that  large  merit 
which  must  have  been  its  basis,  by  reason  of  which  the 
name  of  the  hero  was  selected  from  all  others  for  such 
peculiar  honors ; and  though  these  exaggerations  suggest 
a thousand  difficulties  in  the  way  of  sober  history,  they 
yet  serve  to  increase  the  desire,  as  well  as  the  necessity, 
for  some  such  performance. 

The  family  of  Marion  came  from  France.  They  mi- 
grated to  South  Carolina  somewhere  about  the  year  1690, 
within  thirty  years  after  the  first  British  settlement  of 
the  province.  They  belonged,  in  the  parent  country,  to 
that  sect  of  religious  dissenters  which  bore  the  name  of 
Huguenots ; and  were  among  those  who  fled-  from  the 
cruel  persecutions  which,  in  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of 
Louis  XIV.,  followed  close  upon  the  re-admission  of  the 
Jesuits  into  France.  The  edict  of  Nantz,  which  had  been 
issued  under  the  auspices  of  Henri  IV.,  and  by  which  the 
Huguenots  had  been  guarantied,  with  some  slight  qualifi- 
cations, the  securities  of  the  citizen,  almost  in  the  same 
degree  with  the  Catholic  inhabitants,  had,  under  the  weak 
and  tyrannous  sway  of  the  former  monarch,  proved  toially 
inadequate  to  their  protection.  Long  before  its  formal 
revocation,  the  unmeasured  and  inhuman  persecutions  to 
which  they  were  subjected,  drove  thousands  of  them  intc 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


13 


voluntary  banishment.  The  subsequent  decree  of  Louis, 
by  which  even  the  nominal  securities  of  the  Huguenots 
were  withdrawn,  increased  the  number  of  the  exiles,  and 
completed  the  sentence  of  separation  from  all  those  ties 
which  bind  the  son  to  the  soil.  The  neighboring  Protestant 
countries  received  the  fugitives,  the  number  and  condition 
of  whom  may  be  estimated  by  the  simple  fact,  not  com- 
monly known,  that  England  alone  possessed  “ eleven  regi- 
ments composed  entirely  of  these  unhappy  refugees,  be- 
sides others  enrolled  among  the  troops  of  the  line.  There 
were  in  London  twenty  French  churches  supported  by 
Government ; about  three  thousand  refugees  were  main- 
tained by  public  subscription ; many  received  grants  from  the 
crown  ; and  a great  number  lived  by  their  own  industry.* 
Some  of  the  nobility  were  naturalized  and  obtained  high 
rank ; among  others,  Ruvigny,  son  of  the  Marquis,  was 
made  Earl  of  Galway,  and  Schomberg  received  the  dignity 
of  Duke.”t 

America,  the  new  world,  was  naturally  a land  of  refuge, 
and  soon  received  her  share  of  these  unhappy  fugitives. 
The  transition  was  easy  from  England  to  her  colonies. 
Every  facility  was  afforded  them  for  transportation,  and  the 
wise  policy  which  encouraged  their  settlement  in  the  new 
countries  was  amply  rewarded  by  the  results.  Altogether, 
the  Huguenots  were  a much  better  sort  of  people  than 
those  who  usually  constituted  the  mass  of  European  emi- 
grants. The  very  desperation  of  their  circumstances  was 

* M^moires  et  Observations  faites  par  un  Voyageur  en  Angle- 
terre,  12mo.  La  Haye,  1698,  p.  362.  Quoted  by  Browning  in 
his  History  of  the  Huguenots. 

t Browning:  History  of  the  Huguenots.  London:  Whitta- 
ker and  Co.  1840.  pp.  256.  Of  the  Refugees  from  France, 
Hume  says,  “ near  fifty  thousand  passed  over  into  England 
and  Voltaire  writes  that  “ one  of  the  suburbs  of  London  wad 
entirely  peopled  with  French  workerg  of  silk.” 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


1 4 

a proof  of  their  virtues.  They  were  a people  of  princi- 
ple, for  they  had  suffered  everything  for  conscience  sake. 
They  were  a people  of  pure  habits,  for  it  was  because 
of  their  religion  that  they  suffered  banishment.  In  little 
patriarchal  groups  of  sixty,  seventy,  or  eighty  families,  they 
made  their  way  to  different  parts  of  America  ; and  with 
the  conscious  poverty  of  their  own  members,  were  gene- 
rally received  with  open  arms  by  those  whom  they  found 
in  possession  of  the  soil.  The  English,  as  they  beheld 
the  dependent  and  destitute  condition  of  the  fugitives,  for- 
got, for  a season,  their  usual  national  animosities  ; and 
assigning  ample  tracts  of  land  for  their  occupation,  beheld 
them,  without  displeasure,  settling  down  in  exclusive  colo- 
nies, in  which  they  sought  to  maintain,  as  far  as  possible, 
the  pious  habits  and  customs  of  the  mother  country.  One 
of  these  communities,  comprising  from  seventy  to  eighty 
families,  found  their  way  to  the  banks  of  the  Santee  in 
South  Carolina.*  From  this  point  they  gradually  spread 
themselves  out  so  as  to  embrace,  in  partial  settlements, 
the  spacious  tract  of  country  stretching  to  the  Winyah,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  sources  of  Cooper  River  on  the 
other ; extending  upward  into  the  interior,  following  the 
course  of  the  Santee  nearly  to  the  point  where  it  loses  its 
identity  in  receiving  the  descending  streams  of  the  Wa- 
teree  and  Congaree.  These  settlers  were  generally  poor. 
They  had  been  despoiled  of  all  their  goods  by  the  perse 
cutions  which  had  driven  them  into  exile.  This,  indeed, 
had  been  one  of  the  favorite  modes  by  which  this  result 
had  been  effected.  Doubtless,  also,  it  had  been,  among 
the  subordinates  of  the  crown,  one  of  the  chief  motives 
of  the  persecution.  It  was  a frequent  promise  of  his  Je- 
suit advisers,  to  the  vain  and  bigoted  Louis,  that  the  here- 

* Dalcho,  in  his  Church  History,  says,  “ upwards  of  one 
hundred  families.” 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


15 


tics  should  be  brought  into  the  fold  of  the  Church  without 
a drop  of  bloodshed ; and,  until  the  formal  revocation  of 
the  edict  of  Nantz,  by  which  the  Huguenots  were  put 
without  the  pale  and  protection  of  the  laws,  spoliation  was 
one  of  the  means,  with  others,  by  which  to  avoid  this  ne- 
cessity. These  alternatives,  however,  were  of  a kind  not 
greatly  to  lessen  the  cruelties  of  the  persecutor  or  the  suf- 
ferings of  the  victim.  It  does  not  fall  within  our  province 
to  detail  them.  It  is  enough  that  one  of  the  first  and  most 
obvious  measures  by  which  to  keep  their  promise  to  the 
king,  was  to  dispossess  the  proscribed  subjects  of  their 
worldly  goods  and  chattels.  By  this  measure  a two-fold 
object  was  secured.  While  the  heretic  was  made  to  suffer, 
the  faithful  were  sure  of  their  reward.  It  was  a principle 
faithfully  kept  in  view  ; and  the  refugees  brought  with 
them  into  exile,  little  beyond  the  liberties  and  the  virtues 
for  which  they  had  endured  so  much.  But  these  were 
possessions,  as  their  subsequent  history  has  shown,  beyond 
all  price. 

Our  humble  community  along  the  Santee  had  suffered 
the  worst  privations  of  their  times  and  people.  But, 
beyond  the  necessity  of  hard  labor,  they  had  little  to  de  - 
plore,  at  the  outset,  in  their  new  condition.  They  had 
been  schooled  sufficiently  by  misfortune  to  have  acquired 
humility.  They  observed,  accordingly,  in  their  new  re- 
lations, a policy  equally  prudent  and  sagacious.  More 
flexible  in  their  habits  than  the  English,  they  conciliated 
the  latter  by  deference  ; and,  soothing  the  unruly  passions 
of  the  Indians — the  Santee  and  Sewee  tribes,  who  were 
still  in  considerable  numbers  in  their  immediate  neighbor- 
hood— they  won  them  to  alliance  by  kindness  and  forbear- 
ance. From  the  latter,  indeed,  they  learned  their  test 
lessons  for  the  cultivation  of  the  soil.  That,  upon  which 
they  found  themselves,  lay  in  the  unbroken  forest  The 


16 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


high  lands  which  they  first  undertook  to  clear,  as  less 
stubborn,  were  most  sterile  ; and,  by  a very  natural  mis- 
take, our  Frenchmen  adopted  the  modes  and  objects  of 
European  culture ; the  grains,  the  fruits  and  the  vegeta- 
bles, as  well  as  the  implements,  to  which  they  had  been 
accustomed.  The  Indians  came  to  their  succor,  taught 
them  the  cultivation  of  maize,  and  assisted  them  in  the 
preparation  of  their  lands  ; in  return  for  lessons  thought 
equally  valuable  by  the  savages,  to  whom  they  taught, 
along  with  gentler  habits  and  morals,  a better  taste  for 
music  and  the  dance  ! To  subdue  the  forest,  of  itself, 
to  European  hands,  implied  labors  not  unlike  those  of  Her- 
cules. But  the  refugees,  though  a gentle  race,  were  men 
of  soul  and  strength,  capable  of  great  sacrifices,  and  pro- 
tracted self-denial.  Accommodating  themselves  with  a pa- 
tient courage  to  the  necessities  before  them,  they  cheerful- 
ly undertook  and  accomplished  their  tasks.  We  have 
more  than  one  lively  picture  among  the  early  chroniclers 
of  the  distress  and  hardship  which  they  were  compelled 
to  encounter  at  the  first.  But,  in  this  particular,  there 
was  nothing  peculiar  in  their  situation.  It  differed  in  no 
respect  from  that  which  fell  to  the  lot  of  all  the  early  colo- 
nists in  America.  The  toil  of  celling  trees,  over  whose 
heavy  boughs  and  knotty  arms  the  winters  of  centuries  had 
passed;  the  constant  danger  from  noxious  reptiles  and 
beasts  of  prey,  which,  coiled  in  the  bush  or  crouching  in 
the  brake,  lurked  day  and  night,  in  waiting  for  the  in- 
cautious victim ; and,  most  insidious  and  fetal  enemy  of 
all  , the  malaria  of  the  swamp,  of  the  rank  and  affluent  soil, 
for  the  first  time  laid  open  to  the  sun ; these  are  all  only 
the  ordinary  evils  which  encountered  in  America,  at  the 
very  threshold,  the  advances  of  European  civilisation. 
That  the  Huguenots  should  meet  these  toils  and  dangers 
with  the  sinews  and  the  hearts  of  men,  was  to  be  expect- 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


1? 


ed  from  their  past  experience  and  history.  They  nad  en- 
dured too  many  and  too  superior  evils  in  the  old  world,  to 
be  discouraged  by,  or  to  shrink  fiom,  any  of  those  which 
hung  upon  their  progress  in  the  new.  Like  the  hardy 
Briton,  whom,  under  the  circumstances,  we  may  readily  sup- 
pose them  to  have  emulated,  they  addressed  themselves, 
with  little  murmuring,  to  the  tasks  before  them.  We 
have,  at  the  hands  of  one  of  their  number, — a lady  born  and 
raised  in  affluence  at  home, — a lively  and  touching  picture 
of  the  sufferings  and  duties,  which,  in  Carolina,  at  that 
period,  neither  sex  nor  age  was  permitted  to  escape.  “ After 
our  arrival,”  she  writes,  “ we  suffered  every  kind  of  evil. 
In  about  eighteen  months  our  elder  brother,  unaccustomed 
to  the  hard  labor  we  were  obliged  to  undergo,  died  of  a 
fever.  Since  leaving  France,  we  had  experienced  every 
kind  of  affliction,  disease,  pestilence,  famine,  poverty  and 
hard  labor  ! I have  been  for  six  months  together  without 
tasting  bread,  working  the  ground  like  a slave  ; and  I have 
even  passed  three  or  four  years  without  always  having  it 
when  I wanted  it.  I should  never  have  done  were  I to 
attempt  to  detail  to  you  all  our  adventures.”* 

We  may  safely  conclude  that  there  was  no  exaggeration 
in  this  picture.  The  lot  of  all  the  refugees  seems  to  have 
been  very  equally  severe.  Men  and  women,  old  and  young, 
strove  together  in  the  most  menial  and  laborious  occupa- 
tions. But,  as  courage  and  virtue  usually  go  hand  in  hand 
with  industry,  the  three  are  apt  to  triumph  together.  Such 
was  the  history  in  the  case  of  the  Carolina  Huguenots.  If 
the  labor  and  the  suffering  were  great,  the  fruits  were  pros- 
perity. They  were  more.  Honors,  distinction,  a goodly 

* The  narrative  of  Mrs.  Judith  Manigault,  wife  of  Peter  Ma- 
nigault, as  quoted  by  Ramsay. — Hist.  S.  C.  Vol.  I.  p.,  4.  For  a 
graphic  detail  of  the  usual  difficulties  and  dangers  attending  the 
escape  of  the  Huguenots  from  France,  at  the  period  of  migra- 
tion, see  the  first  portion  of  this  letter 


IS 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


name,  and  the  love  of  those  around  them,  ha\e  blessed 
their  posterity,  many  of  whom  rank  with  the  noblest  citi- 
zens that  were  ever  reared  in  America.  In  a few  years 
after  their  first  settlement,  their  forest  homes  were  crowned 
with  a degree  of  comfort,  which  is  described  as  very  far  su- 
perior to  that  in  the  usual  enjoyment  of  the  British  colonists. 
They  were  a more  docile  and  tractable  race  ; not  so  rest- 
less, nor — though  this  may  seem  difficult  to  understand  to 
those  who  consider  their  past  history — so  impatient  of  fo- 
reign control.  Of  their  condition  in  Carolina,  we  have  a 
brief  but  pleasing  picture  from  the  hands  of  John  Lawson 
then  surveyor-general  of  the  province  of  North  Carolina  * 
This  gentleman,  in  1701 , just  eleven  years  after  its  settle- 
ment, made  a progress  through  that  portion  of  the  Hugue- 
not colony  which  lay  immediately  along  the  Santee.  The 
passages  which  describe  his  approach  to  the  country  which 
they  occupied,  the  hospitable  reception  which  they  gave 
him,  the  comforts  they  enjoyed,  the  gentleness  of  their  hab- 
its, the  simplicity  of  their  lives,  and  their  solicitude  in  be- 
half of  strangers,  are  necessary  to  furnish  the  moral  of  those 
fortunes,  the  beginning  of  which  was  so  severe  and  peril- 
ous. “ There  are,”  says  he,  “ about  seventy  families  seat- 
ed on  this  river,  who  live  as  decently  and  happily  as  ani) 
planters  in  these  southward  parts  of  America.  The  French 
being  a temperate , industrious  people,  some  of  them  bringing 
very  little  of  effects,  yet,  by  their  endeavors  and  mutual  assist- 
ance among  themselves  (which  is  highly  to  be  commended), 

* Lawson’s  “Journal  of  a Thousand  Miles’  Travel  among  the 
Indians,  from  South  to  North  Carolina,”  is  a work  equally  rare 
and  interesting.  This  unfortunate  man  fell  a victim  to  his 
official  duties.  He  was  confounded,  by  the  savages,  with  the 
government  which  he  represented,  and  sacrificed  to  their  fury, 
under  the  charge  of  depriving  them,  by  his  surveys,  of  their  land. 
He  was  made  captive  with  the  Baron  de  Graffenreid.  The 
latter  escaped,  but  Lawson  was  subjected  to  the  fire-torture. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


.9 


have  outstript  our  English , who  brought  with  them  large]  for  ■ 
tunes,  though  (as  it  seems)  less  endeavor  to  manage  their 
talent  to  the  best  advantage.  ’Tis  admirable  to  see  what  time 

and  industry  will  (with  God’s  blessing)  effect,”  &c 

. ...  u We  lay  all  that  night  at  Mons.  Eugee's  (Huger), 
and  the  next  morning  set  out  farther,  to  go  the  remainder 
of  our  voyage  by  land.  At  ten  o’clock  we  passed  over  a 
narrow,  deep  swamp,  having  left  the  three  Indian  men  and 
one  woman,  that  had  piloted  the  canoe  from  Ashley  river, 
having  hired  a Sewee  Indian,  a tall,  lusty  fellow,  who  car- 
ried a pack  of  our  clothes,  of  great  weight.  Notwithstand 
ing  liis  burden,  we  had  much  ado  to  keep  pace  with  him. 
At  noon  we  came  up  with  several  French  plantations. 
Meeting  with  several  creeks  by  the  way,  the  French  were 
very  officious  in  assisting  us  with  their  small  dories  to  pass 
over  these  waters : whom  we  met  coming  from  their  church, 
being  all  of  them  very  clean  and  decent  in  their  apparel;  their 
houses  and  plantations  suitable  in  neatness  and  contrivance. 
They  are  all  of  the  same  opinion  with  the  church  of  Gene- 
va,* there  being;  no  difference  among;  them  concerning;  the 
punctilios  of  their  Christian  faith  ; which  union  hath  pro- 
pagated a happy  and  delightful  concord  in  all  other  matters 
throughout  the  whole  neighborhood  ; living  amongst  themselves 
as  one  tribe  or  kindred , every  one  making  it  his  business  to  be 
assistant  to  the  wants  of  his  countrymen,  preserving  his  estate 
and  reputation  with  the  same  exactness  and  concern  as  he  does 
his  own  : all  seeming  to  share  in  the  misfortunes , and  rejoice 
at  the  advance  and  rise  of  their  brethren.  Lawson  fitly 

* “ The  inhabitants  [of  St.  James,  otherwise  French  Santee] 
petitioned  the  Assembly,  in  1706,  to  have  their  settlement  made 
a parish;  and,  at  the  same  time,  expressed  their  desire  of  being 
united  to  the  Church  of  England,  whose  doctrines  and  discipline 
they  professed  highly  to  esteem.  The  Assembly  passed  an  act, 
April  9,  1706,  to  erect  the  French  settlement  of  Santee  into  a 
parish.” — Dalcho's  Historical  Account , ch.  ix.;  p.  295. 


20 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


concludes  his  account  of  the  settlers  upon  the  Santee,  by 
describing  them  as  “ a very  kind,  loving,  and  affable  peo- 
ple”— a character  which  it  has  been  the  happy  solicitude 
of  their  descendants  to  maintain  to  the  present  day.* 

A more  delightful  picture  than  this  of  Mr.  Lawson,  could 
not  well  be  drawn  by  the  social  perfectionist.  The  rational 
beauty  of  the  voluntary  system  could  not  find  a happier 
illustration  ; and,  duly  impressed  with  its  loveliness,  we 
shall  cease  to  wonder  at  the  instances  of  excellence,  equally 
frequent  and  admirable,  which  rose  up  among  this  little 
group  of  exiles,  to  the  good  fortune  of  the  country  which 
gave  them  shelter,  and  in  attestation  of  their  own  virtues. 
But  this  happy  result  was  due  entirely  to  their  training. 
It  would  be  wonderful,  indeed,  if  such  an  education,  toil 
and  watch,  patient  endurance  of  sickness  and  suffering, 
sustained  only  by  sympathy  with  one  another  and  a humble 
reliance  upon  divine  mercy,  should  not  produce  many  per- 
fect characters — men  like  Francis  Marion,  the  beautiful 
symmetry  of  whose  moral  structure  leaves  us  nothing  to 
regret  in  the  analysis  of  his  life.  Uncompromising  in  the 
cause  of  truth,  stern  in  the  prosecution  of  his  duties,  hardy 
and  fearless  as  the  soldier,  he  was  yet,  in  peace,  equally 
gentle  and  compassionate,  pleased  to  be  merciful,  glad  and 
ready  to  forgive,  sweetly  patient  of  mood,  and  distinguished 
throughout  by  such  prominent  virtues,  that,  while  always 
sure  of  the  affections  of  followers  and  comrades,  he  was 
not  less  secure  in  the  unforced  confidence  of  his  enemies, 
among  whom  his  integrity  and  mercy  were  proverbial.  By 
their  fruits,  indeed,  shall  we  know  this  community,  the 

* See  “ A new  Voyage  to  Carolina,  containing  the  exact  de- 
scription and  natural  history  of  that  country,  &c. ; and  a journey 
of  a thousand  miles,  travelled  through  several  nations  of  Indians 
By  John  Lawson,  Gent.,  Surveyor-General  of  North  Carolina 
London,  1709.” 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


21 


history  of  which  furnishes  as  fine  a commentary  upon  the 
benefit  of  good  social  training  for  the  young — example  and 
precept  happily  keeping  concert  with  the  ordinary  necessi- 
ties and  performances  of  life,  the  one  supported  by  the 
manliest  courage,  the  other  guided  by  the  noblest  princi- 
ple— as  any  upon  record.* 

When  our  traveller  turned  his  back  upon  this  “ kind, 
loving,  and  affable  people,”  to  pursue  his  journey  into 

* It  is  one  of  the  qualifications  of  the  delight  which  the  histo- 
rian feels  while  engaged  in  the  details  of  those  grateful  episodes 
which  frequently  reward  his  progress  through  musty  chronicles, 
to  find  himself  suddenly  arrested  in  his  narrative  by  some  of 
those  rude  interruptions  by  which  violence  and  injustice  disfigure 
so  frequently,  in  the  march  of  history,  the  beauty  of  its  portraits. 
One  of  these  occurs  to  us  in  this  connection.  Our  Huguenot 
settlers  on  the  Santee  were  not  long  suffered  to  pursue  a career 
of  unbroken  prosperity.  The  very  fact  that  they  prospered — ■ 
that,  in  the  language  of  Mr.  Lawson,  “ they  outstript  our  Eng- 
lish,” when  placed  in  like  circumstances — that  they  were  no 
longer  desolate  and  dependent,  and  had  grown  vigorous,  and 
perhaps  wanton,  in  the  smiles  of  fortune — was  quite  enough  to  = 
re-a waken  in  the  bosoms  of  “ our  English”  the  ancient  national 
grudge  upon  which  they  had  so  often  fed  before.  The  prejudices 
and  hostilities  which  had  prevailed  for  centuries  between  their 
respective  nations,  constituted  no  small  part  of  the  moral  stock 
which  the  latter  had  brought  with  them  into  the  wilderness. 
This  feeling  was  farther  heightened,  at  least  maintained,  by  the 
fact  that  France  and  England  had  contrived  to  continue  their  old 
warfare  in  the  New  World ; and,  while  French  emissaries  were 
busy  in  the  back  parts  of  the  colony,  stimulating  the  Creeks  and 
Cherokees  to  hostility,  it  was  perhaps  natural  enough  that  the 
English,  whose  frontiers  were  continually  ravaged  in  conse- 
quence, should  find  it  easy  to  confound  the  “ parley-vous,”  their 
enemies,  with  those,  their  neighbors,  who  spoke  the  same  unpo- 
pular language.  It  is  not  improbable,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
the  Huguenot  settlers  were  a little  too  exclusive,  a little  tor 
tenacious  of  their  peculiar  habits,  manners,  and  language.  The^ 
did  not  suffer  themselves  to  assimilate  with  their  neighbors  ; but, 
maintaining  the  policy  by  which  they  had  colonized  in  a body, 
had  been  a little  too  anxious  to  preserve  themselves  as  a singular 
and  separate  people.  In  this  respect  they  were  not  unlike  the 
English  puritans,  in  whom  and  their  descendants,  this  passion 
for  homogeneousness  has  always  been  thought  a sort  of  merit. 


22 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


North  Carolina,  his  first  forward  step  was  into  a howling 
wilderness  The  Santee  settlement,  though  but  forty  miles 
distant  from  Charleston,  was  a frontier — all  beyond  was 
waste,  thicket  and  forest,  filled  with  unknown  and  fearful 
animals,  and 

“ sliding  reptiles  of  the  ground, 

Startlingly  beautiful,” — 

which  the  footstep  of  man  dreaded  to  disturb.  Of  the 
wild  beasts  by  which  it  was  tenanted,  a single  further 
extract  from  the  journal  of  Mr.  Lawson  will  give  us  a 
sufficient  and  striking  idea.  He  has  left  the  Santee  settle- 
ments but  a single  day — probably  not  more  than  fifteen 
miles.  His  Indian  companion  has  made  for  his  supper  a 
bountiful  provision,  having  killed  three  fat  turkeys  in  the 
space  of  half  an  hour.  “ When  we  were  all  asleep,”  says 
our  traveller,  “ in  the  beginning  of  the  night,  we  were 
awakened  with  the  dismallest  and  most  hideous  noise  that 
ever  pierced  my  ears.  This  sudden  surprisal  incapacitated 
r us  of  guessing  what  this  threatening  noise  might  proceed 

appealing  very  much  to  their  self-esteem  and  pride.  In  the  case 
of  the  French  colonists,  whether  the  fault  was  theirs  or  not,  the 
evil  results  of  being,  or  making  themselves,  a separate  people, 
were  soon  perceptible.  They  were  subjected  to  various  political 
and  social  disabilities,  and  so  odious  had  they  become  to  their 
British  neighbors,  that  John  Archdale,  one  of  the  proprietors,  a 
man  like  Wm.  Penn  (and  by  Grahame,  the  historian,  pronounced 
very  far  his  superior),  equally  beloved  by  all  parties,  as  a man  just 
and  fearless,  was,  when  Governor  of  the  colony,  compelled  to 
deny  them  representation  in  the  colonial  Assembly,  under  pe- 
nalty of  making  invalid  all  his  attempts  at  proper  government. 
Under  this  humiliating  disability  the  Huguenots  lived  and  labored 
for  a considerable  period,  until  the  propriety  of  their  lives,  the 
purity  of  their  virtues,  and  their  frequently-tried  fidelity  in  the 
cause  of  the  country,  forced  the  majority  to  be  just.  An  act, 
passed  in  1696,  making  all  aliens,  then  inhabitants,  free — enabling 
them  to  hold  lands  and  to  claim  the  same  as  heirs — according 
liberty  of  conscience  to  all  Christians  (except  Papists),  &e. — 
placed  our  refugees  on  a footing  of  equality  with  the  rest  of  th# 
inhabitants,  and  put  an  end  to  the  old  hostilities  between  them. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


23 


from ; but  our  Indian  pilot  (who  knew  these  parts  very 
well)  acquainted  us  that  it  was  customary  to  hear  such 
musick  along  that  swamp-side,  there  being  endless  num- 
bers of  panthers,  tygers,  wolves,  and  other  beasts  of  prey, 
which  take  this  swamp  for  their  abode  in  the  day,  coming 
in  whole  droves  to  hunt  the  deer  in  the  night,  making  this 
frightful  ditty  till  day  appears,  then  all  is  still  as  in  other 
places.” — Page  26. 

Less  noisy,  except  in  battle,  but  even  more  fearful,  were 
the  half-human  possessors  of  the  same  regions,  the  savages, 
who,  at  that  period,  in  almost  countless  tribes  or  families, 
hovered  around  the  habitations  of  the  European  Always 
restless,  commonly  treacherous,  warring  or  preparing  for 
war,  the  red  men  required  of  the  white  borderer  the  vigi- 
lance of  an  instinct  which  was  never  to  be  allowed  repose. 
This  furnished  an  additional  school  for  the  moral  and 
physical  training  of  our  young  Huguenots.  In  this  school, 
without  question,  the  swamp  and  forest  partisans  of  a 
future  day  took  some  of  their  first  and  most  valuable' 
lessons  in  war.  Here  they  learned  to  be  watchful  and 
circumspect,  cool  in  danger,  steady  in  advance,  heedful  of 
every  movement  of  the  foe,  and — which  is  of  the  very  last 
importance  in  such  a country  and  in  such  a warfare  as  it 
indicates — happily  dextrous  in  emergencies  to  seize  upon 
the  momentary  casualty,  the  sudden  chance — to  convert 
the  most  trivial  circumstance,  the  most  ordinary  agent,  into 
a means  of  extrication  or  offence.  It  was  in  this  last  res- 
pect particularly,  in  being  quick  to  see,  and  prompt  to 
avail  themselves  of  the  happy  chance  or  instrument,  that 
the  partisans  of  the  revolution  in  the  southern  colonies, 
under  Marion  and  others,  asserted  their  vast  superiority 
over  the  invader,  and  maintained  their  ground,  and  obtained 
their  final  triumph,  in  spite  of  every  inequality  of  arms  and 
numbers 


CHAPTER  II. 


The  Marion  family  — Birth  of  Francis  Marion. — His  \ »uth. — 
Shipwreck. 

We  have  dwelt  upon  the  Huguenot  Settlement  in  Caro- 
lina, somewhat  more  largely  than  our  immediate  subject 
would  seem  to  require.  Our  apology  must  be  found  in  the 
obvious  importance  and  beauty  of  the  fact,  could  this  be 
shown,  that  the  character  of  Francis  Marion  was  in  truth 
a remarkable  illustration,  in  all  its  parts,  of  the  moral  na- 
ture which  prevailed  in  this  little  colony  of  exiles  : that, 
from  the  harmony  existing  among  them,  their  purity  of 
conduct,  propriety  of  sentiment,  the  modesty  of  their  de- 
portment and  the  firmness  of  their  virtues,  he  most  natu- 
rally drew  all  the  components  of  his  own.  His  hardihood, 
elasticity,  great  courage  and  admirable  dexterity  in  war, 
were  also  the  natural  results  of  their  frontier  position. 
We  do  not  pretend  that  his  acquisitions  were  at  all  peculiar 
to  himself.  On  the  contrary,  we  take  for  granted,  that 
every  distinguished  person  will,  in  some  considerable  de- 
gree, betray  in  his  own  mind  and  conduct,  the  most  strik- 
ing of  those  characteristics,  which  mark  the  community  in 
which  he  has  had  his  early  training ; that  his  actions  will, 
in  great  measure,  declare  what  sort  of  moral  qualities  have 
been  set  before  his  eyes,  not  so  much  by  his  immediate 
family,  as  by  the  society  at  large  in  which  he  lives ; that 
he  will  represent  that  society  rather  than  his  immediate 


L,  I F E OF  MARION. 


25 


family,  as  it  is  the  nature  of  superior  minds  to  rush  out 
of  the  narrow  circles  of  domestic  life  ; and  that  his  whole 
after-performances,  even  where  he  may  appear  in  the  garb 
and  guise  of  the  reformer,  will  indicate  in  numerous  vital 
respects,  the  tastes  and  temper  of  the  very  people  whose 
alteration  and  improvement  he  seeks.  The  memoir  upon 
which  we  are  about  to  enter,  will,  we  apprehend,  justify 
the  preliminary  chapter  which  has  been  given  to  the  history 
of  the  Huguenots  upon  the  Santee.  Benjamin  Marion,  the 
grandfather  of  our  subject,  was  one  of  those  who  left 
France  in  1690.  His  son,  named  Gabriel,  married 
Esther  Cordes,  by  whom  he  had  six  children,  of 
whom  but  one  was  a daughter.*  Francis  Marion  was 
the  last.  He  was  born  at  Winyah,  near  Georgetown, 
South  Carolina,  in  1732  ; a remarkable  year,  as,  in  a sister 
colony  (we  are  not  able  to  say  how  nearly  at  the  same 
time),  it  gave  birth  to  George  Washington.  This  coinci- 
dence, which  otherwise  it  might  seem  impertinent  to  notice 
here,  derives  some  importance  from  the  fact  that  it  does 
not  stand  alone,  but  is  rendered  impressive  by  others,  to 
be  shown  as  we  proceed  ; not  to  speak  of  the  striking 
moral  resemblances,  which  it  will  be  no  disparagement  to 
the  fame  of  the  great  Virginian  to  trace  between  the  two. 

The  infancy  of  Marion  was  unpromising.  At  birth  he 
was  puny  and  diminutive  in  a remarkable  degree.  Weems, 
in  his  peculiar  fashion,  writes,  “ I have  it  from  good  au- 
thority, that  this  great  soldier,  at  his  birth,  was  not  larger 

* Weems  speaks  of  six  children  only,  naming  all  the  sons,  and 
the  single  daughter.  Of  her,  he  frankly  says.  “ I have  never  heard 
what  became;  but  for  his  four  brothers,  I am  happy  to  state,  that 
though  not  formidable  as  soldiers,  they  were  very  amiable  as  citi- 
zens.” James  tells  us  of  two  daughters,  not  naming  either,  but  de- 
scribing them  as  “grandmothers  of  the  families  of  the  Mitchells,  of 
Georgetown,  and  of  the  Dwights,  formerly  of  the  same  place,  but 
now  of  St.  Stephen’s  parish.”  Such  particularity  might  be  pre- 
numed  tc  settle  the  question  ; yet  he  seems  to  have  been  in  error 

2 


26 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


than  a New  England  lobster,  and  might  easily  enough 
have  been  put  into  a quart  pot.”  It  was  certainly  as  lit- 
tle supposed  that  he  should  ever  live  to  manhood,  as  that 
he  should  then  become  a hero.  But,  by  the  time  that  he 
had  reached  his  twelfth  year,  his  constitution  underwent  a 
change.  His  health  became  good.  The  bracing  exercises 
and  hardy  employments  of  country  life  invigorated  his 
frame,  and  with  this  improvement  brought  with  it  a rare 
increase  of  energy.  He  grew  restless  and  impatient.  The 
tendency  of  his  mind,  which  was  so  largely  developed  in 
the  partisan  exercises  of  after  years,  now  began  to  exhibit 
itself.  Under  this  impulse  he  conceived  a dislike  to  the 
staid  and  monotonous  habits  of  rural  life,  and  resolved  upon 
seafaring  as  a vocation.  Such,  it  may  be  remarked,  was 
also  the  early  passion  of  Washington ; a passion  rather 
uncommon  in  the  history  of  a southern  farmer’s  boy.  In 
the  case  of  Washington  the  desire  was  only  overcome  at 
the  solicitations  of  his  mother.  The  mother  of  Marion, 
in  like  manner,  strove  to  dissuade  her  son  from  this  early 
inclination.  She  did  not  succeed,  however,  and  when 
scarcely  sixteen,  he  embarked  in  a small  vessel  for  the 
West  Indies.  The  particulars  of  this  voyage,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  mode  in  which  it  terminated,  have  eluded 
our  inquiry.  We  have  looked  for  the  details  in  vain. 
The  name  of  the  vessel,  the  captain,  the  port  she  sailed 
from,  have  equally  escaped  our  search.  To  the  wanton 
destruction  of  private  and  public  records  by  the  British,  to- 
gether with  the  heedless  improvidence  of  heads  of  families 
in  the  South,  we  owe  this  poverty  of  historical  resource. 
The  voyage  must  have  been  taken  somewhere  about  the 
year  1747-8.  At  that  period  there  were  perils  of  the  sea 
to  which  the  mariner  is  not  often  exposed  at  the  present 
day.  The  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  in  particular, 
m ere  covered  with  pirates.  The  rich  produce  of  New 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


37 


Spain,  the  West  Indies,  and  the  Southern  Colonies  of  the 
English,  were  rare  temptations.  The  privateers  of  Spain 
and  France,  a sort  of  legalized  pirates,  hung  about  the 
ports  of  Carolina,  frequently  subjecting  them  to  a condi- 
tion of  blockade,  and  sometimes  to  forced  contributions. 
In  the  occasional  absence  of  the  British  armed  vessels  ap- 
pointed for  the  protection  of  these  ports,  the  more  enter- 
prising and  spirited  among  their  citizens  frequently  fitted 
out  their  own  cruisers,  drawing  them,  for  this  purpose, 
from  the  merchant  service  ; manning  them  in  person,  and 
requiting  themselves  for  +heir  losses  of  merchandize  by  the 
occasional  capture  of  some  richly  laden  galleon  from  New 
Spain.  No  doubt  the  imagination  of  young  Marion  was 
fired  by  hearing  of  these  exploits.  The  sensation  produced 
in  the  community,  by  the  injuries  done  to  its  commerce, 
in  all  probability  gave  the  direction  to  his  already  excited 
and  restless  disposition.  It  does  not  appear,  however,  that 
Marion’s  first  and  only  voyage  was  made  in  an  armed  ves- 
sel. Such,  we  may  well  suppose,  would  have  been  his 
desire ; but  the  period  when  he  set  forth  to  procure  ser- 
vice upon  the  seas,  may  not  have  been  auspicious.  He 
may  have  reached  the  seaport  a moment  too  soon  or  toe 
late,  and  the  opportunities  of  this  kind  were  necessarily  in  - 
frequent in  a small  and  frontier  city,  whose  commerce  lay 
mostly  in  the  hands  of  strangers.  His  small  size  and  puny 
appearance  must  have  operated  very  much  against  his 
hopes  of  obtaining  employment  in  a service  which  particu- 
larly calls  for  manhood  and  muscle.  In  what  capacity,  or 
in  what  sort  of  vessel  he  obtained  a berth,  we  are  left 
wholly  to  conjecture.  Choosing  the  sea  as  a vocation, 
and  laudably  resolved  on  acquiring  a proper  knowledge 
of  his  business  (as  from  what  we  know  of  his  charac- 
ter, we  may  suppose  was  the  case),  he  most  probably  went 
before  the  mast  His  first  and  only  voyage  was  unfortu 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


28 


nnte.  The  ship  in  which  he  sailed  was  no  doubt  equally 
frail  and  small.  She  foundered  at  sea  ; whether  going  or 
returning  is  not  said  ; in  consequence,  we  are  told  of  in- 
juries received  from  the  stroke  of  a whale,  of  the  thorn- 
back  species.  So  suddenly  did  she  sink,  that  her  crew, 
only  six  in  number,  had  barely  time  to  save  themselves 
They  escaped  to  the  jolly-boat,  saving  nothing  but  their 
lives.  They  took  with  them  neither  water  nor  provisions  ; 
and  for  six  days,  hopeless  of  succor,  they  lay  tossing  to 
and  fro,  upon  the  bald  and  cheerless  ocean.  A dog,  which 
swam  to  them  from  the  sinking  vessel,  was  sacrificed  to 
their  hunger.  His  raw'  flesh  was  their  only  food,  his  blood 
their  only  drink,  during  this  distressing  period.  Two  of 
their  number  perished  miserably.*  The  survivors,  on  the 

* Weems  represents  the  captain  and  mate,  as  throwing  them- 
selves overboard  in  a state  of  phrenzy,  and  there  is  nothing 
improbable  or  unnatural  in  the  statement.  Privation  of  food, 
the  use  of  salt  water,  and  exposure  in  an  open  boat  to  a burning 
sun,  might  very  well  produce  such  an  effect.  The  only  difficul- 
ty, however,  consists  in  the  simple  fact  that  we  have  no  other 
authority  for  the  statement.  James  is  silent  on  the  point,  and 
contents  himself  with  simply  stating  the  death  of  two  of  the 
crew.  Weems,  however,  adds  that  of  two  others,  whose  end  re- 
ceives, as  usual,  quite  a dramatic  finish  at  his  hands.  He  suffers 
none  to  live  but  “little  Marion,”  and,  in  the  exuberance  of  his 
imagination,  actually  goes  so  far  as  to  describe  the  particular 
food  “chocolate  and  turtle  broth,”  by  which  the  youthful  hero 
is  recruited  and  recovered.  By  this  he  designs  to  show,  more 
emphatically,  the  immediate  interposition,  in  his  behalf,  of  an  es- 
pecial Providence.  The  truth  is,  that  any  attempt  at  details 
where  so  little  is  known  to  have  been  preserved,  must  necessa- 
rily, of  itself,  subject  to  doubt  any  narrative  not  fortified  by  the 
most  conclusive  evidence.  Unfortunately  for  the  reverend  his- 
torian, his  known  eccentricities  as  a writer,  and  fondness  for 
hyperbole,  must  always  deprive  his  books — though  remarkably 
useful  and  interesting  to  the  young — of  any  authority  wdiich 
might  be  claimed  for  them  as  histories.  As  fictions  from  histo- 
ry, lively  and  romantic,  they  are  certainly  very  astonishing  per- 
formances, have  amused  and  benefited  thousands,  and  entitle 
the  writer  to  a rank,  in  a peculiar  walk  of  letters,  which  has  not 
yet  been  assigned  him. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


29 


seventh  daj  were  found  and  taken  up  by  a passing  vessel, 
nourished  carefully  and  finally  restored  to  their  homes. 

Francis  Marion  was  one  of  these  survivors.  The  puny 
boy  lived  through  the  terrors  and  sufferings  under  which 
the  strong  men  perished.  So  intense  were  their  sufferings, 
so  terrible  the  trial,  that  it  will  not  greatly  task  the 
imagination  to  recognize  in  the  preservation  of  the  youth, — 
looking  to  his  future  usefulness — the  agency  of  a special 
providence.  The  boy  was  preserved  for  other  times  and 
fortunes  ; and,  in  returning  to  his  mother,  was  perhaps 
better  prepared  to  heed  her  entreaties  that  he  should 
abandon  all  idea  of  an  element,  from  which  his  escape  had 
been  so  hazardous  and  narrow.  It  was  well  for  himself  and 
country  that  he  did  so.  It  can  scarcely  be  conjectured  that 
his  achievements  on  the  sea  would  have  been  half  so 
fortunate,  or  half  so  honorable  to  himself  and  country,  as 
those  which  are  now  coupled  with  his  name. 

Returning  to  his  home  and  parents,  young  Marion  sunk 
once  more  into  the  humble  condition  of  the  farmer.  His 
health  and  strength  had  continued  to  improve.  His  ad- 
ventures by  sea  had  served,  seemingly,  to  complete  that 
change  for  the  better,  in  his  physical  man,  which  had  been 
so  happily  begun  on  land ; and,  subduing  his  roving  incli- 
nations, we  hear  of  him  only,  in  a period  of  ten  years,  as  a 
tiller  of  the  earth.  In  this  vocation  he  betrayed  that 
diligent  attention  to  his  duties,  that  patient  hardihood,  and 
calm,  equable  temper,  which  distinguished  his  deportment 
in  every  part  of  his  career.  He  is  represented  as  equally 
industrious  and  successful  as  a farmer.  The  resources  of 
his  family  seem  to  have  been  very  moderate.  There  were 
several  children,  and  before  Francis  was  yet  twenty-five 
years  of  age,  he  lost  his  father.  In  1758  he  was  planting 
with  his  mother  and  brother  Gabriel,  near  Friersons  Lock 
on  the  Santee  Canal.  In  1759  they  separated.  Gabriel 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


3li 

removed  to  Belle  Isle — the  place  where  the  nortal  re- 
mains of  Francis  Marion  now  repose — while  the  latter 
settled  at  a place  called  Pond  Bluff  in  the  Parish  of  St. 
John.  This  place  he  continued  to  hold  during  life.  It  is 
still  pointed  out  to  the  traveller  as  Marion’s  plantation, 
and  is  the  more  remarkable,  as  it  lies  within  cannon  shot 
of  the  battle  ground  of  Eutaw,  which  his  valor  and  con- 
duct contributed  to  render  so  justly  famous  in  the  history 
of  his  native  state.  During  this  long  period  of  repose — the 
interval  between  his  shipwreck,  and  removal  to  Pond 
Bluff, — we  are  only  left  to  conjecture  his  employments. 
Beyond  his  agricultural  labors,  we  may  suppose  that  his 
chiet  tasks  were  the  cultivation  of  his  mind,  by  close  ap- 
plication to  those  studies  which,  in  the  condition  of  the 
country,  sparsely  settled,  and  without  teachers,  were  usual- 
ly very  inadequately  urged.  It  does  not  appear  that  his 
acquisitions  in  this  respect  were  more  valuable  than  could 
be  afforded  at  the  present  day  by  the  simplest  grammar- 
school  of  the  country.  Here  again  we  may  trace  the  re- 
semblance between  his  career  and  that  of  Washington. 
Equally  denied  the  advantages  of  education,  they  equally 
drew  from  the  great  mother-sources  of  nature.  Thrown 
upon  their  own  thoughts,  taught  by  observation  and  ex- 
perience— the  same  results  of  character, — firmness,  temper- 
ance, good  sense,  sagacious  foresight,  and  deliberate 
prudence — became  conspicuous  in  the  conduct  and  . career 
of  both.  In  the  fortunes  of  neither — in  the  several  tasks 
allotted  to  them,— in  their  various  situations, — did  their 
deficiencies  of  education  appear  to  qualify  their  successes, 
or  diminish  the  respect  and  admiration  of  those  around 
them, — a singular  fact,  as  indicative  equally  of  the  modesty, 
the  good  sense,  and  the  superior  intrinsic  worth  of  both  of 
th*  se  distinguished  persons.  In  the  case  of  Marion,  his 
at  of  education  neither  lessened  his  energies,  or  con- 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


31 


fidence  in  himself,  nor  baffled  any  of  his  natural  endow- 
ments. On  the  contrary,  it  left  his  talents  free  to  their 
natural  direction.  These,  it  is  probable,  were  never  of  a 
kind  to  derive,  or  to  need,  many  advantages  from  a very 
superior  or  scientific  education.  His  mind  was  rather 
practical  than  subtile — his  genius  prompted  him  to  action, 
rather  than  to  study, — and  the  condition  and  necessities  of 
the  country,  calling  for  the  former  rather  than  the  latter 
character,  readily  reconciled  him  to  a deficiency  the  iea 
portance  of  which  he  did  not  feel. 


CHAPTER  III 


Marion  a Farmer. — Volunteers  in  the  Cherokee  Campaign. 

Fbom  the  readiness  with  which  young  Marion  yielded 
himself  to  the  entreaties  of  his  mother,  and  resumed  the 
occupations  of  agriculture,  and  from  the  quiet  and  perse- 
vering industry  with  which  he  pursued  them  for  a period 
of  nearly  or  quite  ten  years,  it  might  be  supposed  that 
the  impatience  and  restlessness  of  mood,  which  had  for 
merly  led  him  to  revolt  at  the  staid  drudgery  of  rural  life, 
had  been  entirely  extinguished  in  his  bosom.  But  such 
was  not  the  case.  It  was  only  subdued,  and  slumbering 
for  a season,  ready  to  awaken  at  the  first  opportunity, 
with  all  the  vigor  and  freshness  of  a favorite  passion. 
That  opportunity  was  at  hand.  Events  were  in  progress 
which  were  to  bring  into  the  field,  and  prepare  by  the 
very  best  sort  of  training,  for  the  most  noble  trials,  the 
great  military  genius  of  the  Partisan.  At  the  opening  of 
the  year  1759,  the  colony  of  South  Carolina  was  on  the 
eve  of  an  Indian  war.  The  whole  frontier  of  the  Southern 
Provinces,  from  Pennsylvania  to  Georgia,  was  threatened 
by  the  savages,  and  the  scalping-knife  had  already  begun 
it's  bloody  work  upon  the  weak  and  unsuspecting  borderers. 
The  French  had  been  conquered  upon  the  Ohio.  Forts 
Frontenac  and  Duquesne  had  fallen.  British  and  Pro- 
vincial valor,  aided  by  strong  bodies  of  Cherokee  warriors, 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


33 

had  everywhere  placed  the  flag  of  Britain  above  the  for- 
tresses of  France.  With  its  elevation,  the  Indian  allies  of 
the  French  sent  in  their  adhesion  to  the  conquerors  ; and, 
their  work  at  an  end,  the  Cherokee  auxiliaries  of  Britain 
prepared  to  return  to  their  homes,  covered  with  their 
savage  trophies,  and  adequately  rewarded  for  their  services 
It  happened,  unfortunately,  that,  while  passing  along  th~ 
frontiers  of  Virginia,  the  Cherokees,  many  of  whom  had 
lost  their  horses  during  the  campaign,  supplied  themselves 
rather  unscrupulously  from  the  pastures  of  the  colonists 
With  inconsiderate  anger,  the  Virginians,  forgetting  (he 
late  valuable  services  of  the  savages,  rose  upon  their  foot- 
steps, slew  twelve  or  fourteen  of  their  warrior?.,  and  made 
prisoners  of  as  many  more.  This  rash  and  ill-advised 
severity  aroused  the  nation.  The  young  warriors  flew  to 
arms,  and  pouring  their  active  hordes  upon  the  frontier 
settlements,  proceeded  to  the  work  of  slaughter,  without 
pausing  to  discriminate  between  the  offending  and  the 
innocent.  The  emergency  was  pressing,  and  Governor 
Lyttleton,  of  South  Carolina,  called  out  the  mifitia  of  the 
province.  They  were  required  to  rendezvous  at  the  Con- 
garees,  about  one  hundred  and  forty  miles  from  Charleston. 
To  this  rendezvous  Francis  Marion  repaired,  in  a troop  of 
provincial  cavalry  commanded  by  one  of  his  brothers.* 
But  he  was  not  yet  to  flesh  his  maiden  valor  upon  the 
enemy.  The  prompt  preparation  of  the  Carolinians  had 
somewhat  lessened  the  appetite  of  the  savages  for  war 
Perhaps  their  own  preparations  were  not  yet  sufficiently 
complete  to  make  them  hopeful  of  its  issue.  The  young 
warriors  were  recalled  from  the  frontiers,  and  a deputation 
of  thirty-two  chiefs  set  out  for  Charleston,  in  ordei  to  pro- 
pitiate the  anger  of  the  whites,  and  arrest  the  threatened 
invasion  of  their  country.  Whether  they  were  since-'**  in 

* Judge  James’  Life  of  Marion,  p.  17. 

2* 


34 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


their  pr  ifessions,  or  simply  came  for  the  purpose  of  de- 
luding and  disarming  the  Carolinians,  is  a question  with 
the  historians.  It  is  certain  that  Governor  Lyttleton 
doubted  their  sincerity,  refused  to  listen  to  their  explana- 
tions, and,  carrying  them  along  with  him,  rather  as  host- 
ages than  as  commissioners  in  sacred  trust,  he  proceeded 
to  meet  the  main  body  of  his  army,  already  assembled  at 
the  Congarees.  The  treatment  to  which  they  were  thus 
subjected,  filled  the  Cherokee  deputies  with  indignation, 
which,  with  the  usual  artifice  of  the  Indian,  they  yet  con- 
trived to  suppress.  But  another  indiscreet  proceeding  ol 
the  Governor  added  to  the  passion  which  they  felt,  and 
soon  baffled  all  their  powers  of  concealment.  In  resuming 
the  march  for  the  nation,  he  put  them  into  formal  custo- 
dy, placed  a captain’s  guard  over  them,  and  in  this  manner 
hurried  them  to  the  frontiers.  Whatever  may  have  been 
the  merits  of  this  movement  as  a mere  military  precau- 
tion, it  was  of  very  bad  policy  in  a civil  point  of  view. 
It  not  only  degraded  the  Indian  chiefs  in  their  own,  but  in 
the  eyes  of  their  people.  His  captives  deeply  and  openly 
resented  this  indignity  and  breach  of  faith  ; and,  brooding 
in  sullen  ferocity  over  the  disgrace  which  they  suffered, 
meditated  in  silence  those  schemes  of  vengeance  which 
they  subsequently  brought  to  a fearful  maturity.  But 
though  thus  impetuous  and  imprudent,  and  though  press- 
ing forward  as  if  with  the  most  determined  purposes, 
Lyttleton  was  in  no  mood  for  war.  His  policy  seems  to 
have  contemplated  nothing  further  than  the  alarm  of  the 
Indians.  Neither  party  was  exactly  ripe  for  the  final 
issue.  The  Cherokees  needed  time  for  preparation,  and  the 
Governor,  with  an  army  ill  disciplined  and  imperfectly 
armed,  found  it  nolitic,  when  on  the  very  confines  of  the 
enemy’s  country  to  do  that  which  he  might  very  well 
have  done  in  Charleston — listen  to  terms  of  accommodation 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


35 


Having  sent  for  Attakullakullah,  the  wise  man  of  the 
nation,  who  had  always  been  the  staunch  friend  of  the 
whites,  he  made  his  complaints,  and  declared  his  readiness 
for  peace  ; — demanding,  however,  as  the  only  condition  on 
which  it  could  be  granted,  that  twenty-four  men  of  the 
nation  should  be  delivered  to  him,  to  be  disposed  of  as  he 
should  think  proper,  by  death  or  otherwise,  as  an  atone- 
ment for  that  number  of  Carolinians,  massacred  in  the  late 
foray  of  the  savages.  A treaty  was  effected,  but  with 
some  difficulty  on  these  terms.  Compliance  with  this 
requisition  was  not  so  easy,  however,  on  the  part  of  the 
Cherokee  chiefs.  The  moment  it  was  understood,  the 
great  body  of  their  people  fled  to  the  mountains,  and  the 
number  of  hostages  could  be  secured  only  by  the  detention 
of  twenty-two  of  those  chiefs  already  in  the  Governor’s 
custody.  The  captives  were  placed,  for  safe  keeping,  at 
the  frontier  fort  of  Prince  George. 

But  the  natural  sense  of  the  savage  is  not  inferior  to  that 
by  which  the  laws  of  the  civilized  are  prescribed,  in  their 
dealings  with  one  another.  The  treaty  thus  extorted  from 
their  leaders, while  in  a state  of  duresse,  was  disregarded 
by  the  great  body  of  the  nation.  They  watched  their  op- 
portunity, and,  scarcely  had  the  Governor  disbanded  his 
forces,  when  the  war-whoop  resounded  from  the  frontiers. 

Fort  Prince  George  was  one  of  the  most  remote  of  a 
chain  of  military  posts  by  which  the  intercourse  was  main- 
tained between  the  several  white  settlements  of  the  sea- 
board and  the  interior.  It  stood  on  the  banks  of  the  Isun- 
diga  River,  about  three  hundred  miles  from  Charleston, 
within  gunshot  of  the  Indian  town  of  Keowee.  This  post, 
to  which  the  Cherokee  hostages  were  carried,  was  defend- 
ed by  cannon,  and  maintained  by  a small  force  under  Colo- 
nel Cotymore.  It  was  in  this  neighborhood,  and,  as  it 
were  in  defiance  of  this  force,  that  the  war  was  begun 


36 


LIFE  F MARION 


Fourteen  whites  were  massacred  at  a blow,  within  a mile 
of  this  station.  This  was  followed  up  by  a stratagem,  by 
which  Occonostota,  one  of  the  principal  warriors,  aimed 
to  obtain  possession  of  the  fort.  Pretending  to  have  some- 
thing of  importance  to  communicate  to  the  commander,  he 
dispatched  a woman  who  had  usually  obtained  access  to 
the  station,  to  solicit  an  interview  with  him.  This  was  to 
take  place  on  the  banks  of  the  river.  Meanwhile  the 
savage  prepared  his  ambush.  Cotymore  imprudently  as- 
sented to  the  meeting,  and,  attended  by  Lieutenants  Bell 
and  Foster,  walked  down  towards  the  river,  from  the  oppo- 
site side  of  which  Occonostota  addressed  him.  While 
they  spoke,  the  Indian  was  seen  to  wave  a bridle  over  his 
head.  This  was  the  signal  agreed  upon  with  the  ambushed 
warriors.  At  this  signal  they  rose  and  poured  in  their  fire. 
Cotymore  was  slain  on  the  spot,  and  his  companions 
wounded.  But  the  savages  failed  to  get  possession  of  the 
fort.  Suspecting  a concerted  movement  among  the  hosta- 
ges, by  which  they  would  co-operate  with  the  assailing  foe 
without,  the  officer  in  command  of  the  fort  gave  orders  tc 
secure  them  with  irons.  The  attempt  to  obey  these  or- 
ders ended  in  a bloody  tragedy.  The  Indians  resisted  with 
arms,  and,  stabbing  three  of  the  soldiers,  so  e sasperated 
the  rest,  already  excited  by  the  murder  of  their  captain, 
that  they  fell  upon  the  miserable  wretches  and  butchered 
them  to  a man. 

This  unhappy  event,  completing  what  the  indiscreet 
severities  of  Governor  Lyttleton  had  begun,  united  the 
whole  nation  of  Cherokees  in  war.  There  had  been  a 
strong  party  favorable  to  peace,  and  friendly  to  the  whites. 
This  unfortunate  proceeding  involved  the  loss  of  this  party 
The  hostages  were  among  their  chief  men,  and  scarcely  a 
family  in  the  nation  but  lost  a relative  or  friend  in  their 
'nassacre.  They  were  now  unanimous  for  battle  ; and. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


37 


numerous  parties  rushing  simultaneously  down  upon  the 
frontiers,  baffled  the  courage  and  prevented  the  flight  of 
the  fugitives.  They  fell  without  distinction  upon  men 
women  and  children.  “ Such  as  fled  to  the  woods  and  es- 
caped the  scalping-knife,  perished  of  hunger.  . . . Ever} 
day  brought  fresh  accounts  to  the  capital  of  their  ravages, 
murders  and  desolations.  But  while  the  back  settlers 
looked  to  their  governor  for  relief,  the  small-pox  raged  to 
such  a degree  in  town  that  few  of  the  militia  could  be  pre- 
vailed upon  to  leave  their  distressed  families  to  serve  the 
public.”*  Lyttleton,  meanwhile,  by  whom  all  the  mis- 
chief was  occasioned,  was  made  Governor  of  Jamaica,  and 
the  charge  of  the  colony  devolved  on  William  Bull,  a na- 
tive— “ a man  of  great  integrity  and  erudition.”  In  the 
almost  hopeless  condition  of  the  province,  her  sisters, 
North  Carolina  and  Virginia,  raised  seven  troops  of  rangers 
for  the  frontiers  ; and  Colonel  Montgomery,  afterwards 
Earl  of  Eglintoun,  was  dispatched  from  Canada,  with  a 
battalion  of  Highlanders  and  four  companies  of  Royal 
Scots.  Before  the  end  of  April,  1760,  the  camp  of  ren- 
dezvous for  a new  invasion  of  the  Cherokee  territories  was 
established  at  Monk’s  Corner.  Meanwhile,  the  health  of 
Carolina  had  undergone  some  improvement,  and  the  gen- 
tlemen of  the  country  were  not  idle.  They  turned  out  in 
force  as  volunteers,  and  under  the  spirited  direction  of 
Governor  Bull,  the  whole  disposable  force  of  the  province 
was  put  >n  requisition.  Among  these,  it  is  not  so  sure,  but 
is  believed,  that  Francis  Marion  once  more  made  his  ap- 
pearance as  a volunteer.  From  what  we  know  of  his  cha- 
racter, his  temperament,  and  that  unsatisfied  craving  which 
he  seems  to  have  shown  from  the  beginning  for  such  ex- 
citements, it  is  reasonable  to  infer  his  presence  in  the  field. 
But,  though  asserted  by  tradition,  we  confess  that  the 


* Hewatt’s  Hist  S.  C. 


38 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


records  are  silent  on  the  subject.  Unsatisfactory  as  at 
that  period  they  generally  are,  on  this  point  they  are  par- 
ticularly so ; and  but  that  his  share  in  this  war,  before  its 
final  conclusion,  was  not  only  unquestionable  but  conspicu- 
ous, we  should  pass  over  the  campaign  of  Montgomery, 
with  a simple  reference  to  its  results. 

The  Cherokees,  meanwhile,  were  not  unobservant  o 
the  preparations  and  approaches  of  the  Carolinians.  They 
gathered  themselves  up  for  defence,  and  in  silence  matur- 
ed their  half  civilized,  half  primitive  modes  of  warfare 
This  people,  at  the  period  of  which  we  write,  were  a people 
of  very  superior  endowments  and  resources  to  any  of  the 
neighboring  savage  nations.  If  less  warlike,  in  the  simple 
sense  of  the  word,  than  their  rivals  the  Creeks,  they  were 
really  more  to  be  feared,  as  it  was  in  consequence  of  their 
superior  civilization  that  they  had  lost  some  of  their  brute 
ferocity.  If  they  were  less  reckless,  they  -were  better 
skilled  ; if  less  frantic  in  their  fury,  they  coupled  it  with 
a wary  vindictiveness  which  rendered  the  blow  more  fatal 
when  it  fell.  The  advances  which  they  had  made  in  civ- 
ilization had  naturally  increased  their  numbers  ; while  the 
novel  tastes  by  which  their  wandering  habits  were  dimin- 
ished, had  necessarily  added  to  their  love  of  country,  in  add- 
ing to  the  resources  and  improvements  by  which  its 
comforts  and  delights  were  increased.  Thus,  neithei 
degraded  by  the  lowest  condition  in  which  we  find  the 
human  animal,  nor  enervated  by  the  superior  luxuries  to 
which  he  may  attain,  the  Cherokee  was  perhaps  at  this 
tune  in  possession  of  his  greatest  vigor  ; not  very  remote, 
in  his  moral  and  physical  condition,  from  the  Roman  when 
he  overcame  his  Etrurian  and  Sabine  neighbors.  The 
Cherokees  occupied  a country  equally  broad  and  beautiful 
It  .ay  in  fertile  valleys,  green  meadows,  sunny  slopes, 
and  mighty  forests,  along  the  sides  of  lofty  summits,  that 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


39 


circled  their  extensive  territory  with  natural  fortresses 
of  giant  grandeur.  Spreading  from  the  Broad,  or  Chero- 
kee river,  beyond  the  Tennessee  and  the  Savannah,  it 
comprised  every  variety  of  soil  and  surface,  and  while 
adapted  in  a high  degree  to  the  hands  of  the  agriculturist, 
seemed  almost  as  easily  made  secure  against  the  footsteps 
of  invasion.  Its  apparent  securities  had  made  them  inso- 
lent. Their  mountain  recesses  had  never  known  the 
presence  of  this  foe.  Their  fruits  and  fields,  their  villages 
and  towns,  with  the  exception  of  a district  that  lay  upon 
the  Atlantic  slopes,  were  generally  fenced  in,  and  admirably 
protected,  by  wild  and  rugged  masses  of  rocky  mountains, 
natural  defences,  impenetrable,  unless  through  certain 
passes  which  a few  determined  hearts  might  easily  make 
good  against  twenty  times  their  number.  But  the  nu- 
merical force  of  this  great  aboriginal  people  seemed  of 
itself  sufficiently  strong  to  promise  security  to  their  country. 
At  the  time  of  Montgomery’s  invasion  they  had  no  less  than 
sixty-four  towns  and  villages  In  an  emergency,  they  could 
send  six  thousand  warriors  into  the  field.  Many  of  these 
were  armed  with  the  weapons  of  European  warfare — were 
accustomed  to  that  warfare,  and  were  thus  doubly  prepared 
to  encounter  the  enemy  in  whose  ranks  they  had  received 
their  best  military  lessons.  Such  a force  very  far  exceeded 
that  of  the  Carolinians.  Mustering  but  two  thousand  men, 
Col.  Montgomery  found  it  advisable  to  urge  his  march 
upon  the  nation  with  equal  celerity  and  caution.  Having 
reached  a place  called  Twelve-mile  River,  within  twenty 
miles  of  the  Indian  town  of  Estatoee,  he  advanced  by  night 
upon  it,  secretly,  and  with  a view  to  its  surprise.  In  his 
march,  surrounding  the  town  of  Little  Keowee,  not  a war- 
rior of  the  Cherokees  escaped  the  sword.  His  success  wras 
less  complete  at  Estatoee.  The  Indians,  apprised  of  his 
approach,  with  few  exceptions,  succeeded  in  making  theii 


40 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


escape  ; but  the  town,  consisting  of  more  than  two  hundred 
houses,  and  well  stored  with  corn,  hogs,  poultry  and  ammu- 
nition, perished  in  the  flames.  Shugaw  Town  and  every 
other  settlement  in  the  “ Lower  Nation,”  shared  the  same 
fate.  The  lightning-like  rapidity  of  the  march  had  taken 
the  savages  everywhere,  in  this  part  of  the  country,  by 
surprise.  They  fled  rather  than  fought,  and  while  they 
lost  everything  in  the  shape  of  property,  but  few  of  them 
were  slain.  They  sought  for  shelter  among  their  more 
numerous  and  better  protected  brethren  of  the  mountains  ; 
a people  neither  so  easily  approached/  nor  so  easily 
overcome. 

Montgomery,  having  finished  this  part  of  his  work  so 
successfully,  hurried  on  to  the  relief  of  Fort  Prince  George, 
which,  from  the  time  when  their  Chiefs  were  so  cruelly 
butchered  within  its  walls,  had  been  closely  invested  by  a 
formidable  force  of  Cherokees.  The  fort  was  relieved. 
The  Indians  fled  at  his  approach ; and,  thinking  that  the 
severe  chastisement  which  he  had  inflicted  upon  them, 
had  inclined  their  hearts  to  peace,  the  General  of  the 
Carolinians  paused  in  his  progress,  to  give  them  an  oppor- 
tunity to  sue  for  it,  as  the  former  friends  and  allies  of 
the  English.  But  he  had  mistaken  the  stubborn  nature  of 
his  foe.  They  were  not  sufficiently  humbled,  and  it  was 
resolved  to  march  upon  the  “middle  settlements.”  To 
this  task,  that  which  had  been  performed  was  compara- 
tively easy.  They  were  now  to  enter  upon  a differ- 
ent country,  where  the  Indians  were  better  prepared  for 
them — nay,  where  they  had  prepared  for  them, — in  all 
probability,  to  the  neglect  of  the  lower  towns.  Toilsome 
and  full  of  peril  was  this  march.  Dismal  and  dense  was 
the  wilderness  which  they  were  now  to  penetrate.  Rugged 
paths,  narrow  passes,  gloomy  thickets  and  dark  ravines, 
encountered  them  in  their  hourly  progress,  calling  for  con- 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


41 


stant  vigilance  and  the  maintenance  of  all  their  courage 
Rivers,  fordable  in  unfrequent  places  and  overlooked  by 
precipitous  banks  on  either  side,  crowned  most  commonly 
by  dense  and  intricate  masses  of  forest,  through  which 
and  without  a guide,  our  little  army  was  compelled  to 
pass, — presented  opportunities  for  frequent  ambush  -and  at- 
tack, in  which,  very  inferior  forces,  if  properly  commanded, 
might,  with  little  danger  to  themselves,  overwhelm  and 
utterly  destroy  an  advancing  enemy.  It  was  in  such  a 
region  that  the  Cherokees  made  their  first  and  formidable 
stand.  Within  five  miles  of  Etchoee,  the  nearest  town  of 
the  middle  settlements,  the  army  of  Montgomery  approach- 
ed a low  valley,  clothed  with  a thicket  so  dense  that  the 
soldiers  could  scarcely  discern  objects  three  paces  ahead. 
Through  this  thicket  ran  a muddy  river,  enclosed  between 
steep  banks  of  clay.  This  passage,  where  but  few  men 
could  act  in  unison,  was  that  through  which  it  became 
necessary  that  the  army  should  proceed.  It  was  the  very 
spot,  which,  over  all  others,  a sagacious  warrior  would 
choose  in  which  to  place  an  ambush,  or  meet  a superior 
assailant.  Montgomery  knew  his  enemy,  and  prepared  for 
the  encounter.  Captain  Morrison,  commanding  a company 
of  rangers,  native  marksmen  and  well  acquainted  with  the 
forest — was  sent  forward  to  scour  the  thicket.  His  ad- 
vance was  the  signal  for  battle.  Scarcely  had  he  entered 
upon  the  dismal  passage  when  the  savages  rose  from  their 
hiding-places  and  poured  in  a severe  fire.  Morrison,  with 
several  of  his  men,  perished  at  the  first  discharge.  They 
were  sustained  by  the  light  Infantry  and  Grenadiers,  who 
boldly  advanced  upon  the  wood  in  the  face  of  the  invisible 
foe.  A heavy  fire  followed  on  both  sides,  the  Cherokees, 
each  with  his  eye  upon  his  man,  the  Carolinians  aiming 
at  the  flash  of  the  enemy’s  guns.  The  pass  was  disputed 
by  the  savages  with  a degree  of  conduct  and  courage, 


12 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


which  left  the  issue  doubtful.  The  necessity  was  apparent 
for  extraordinary  effort.  The  Royal  Scots,  who  were  in 
the  rear,  were  now  pushed  forward  to  take  possession  of  a 
rising  ground  on  the  right,  while  the  Highlanders  were 
marched  forward  to  the  immediate  support  of  the  Infantry 
and  Grenadiers.  This  movement  had  the  effect  of  bring- 
ing the  enemy  into  close  action.  The  bayonet  stirred  and 
laid  bare  the  thicket  The  woods  resounded  with  the 
shouts  and  yells  of  the  Cherokees,  but  they  no  longer  fell 
with  terror  upon  the  ear  of  the  whites.  They  had  grown 
familiar.  The  savages  yielded  slowly  as  the  bayonet  ad- 
vanced. Suffering  severely  as  they  fled,  they  yet  display- 
ed the  native  obstinacy  of  their  race, — turning  upon  the 
pursuer  when  they  could,  availing  themselves  of  tree  or 
thicket  to  retard,  by  shot  or  stroke,  the  assailants  ; and, 
even  in  flight,  only  so  far  keeping  ahead  of  the  bayonet  as 
to  avoid  its  stroke.  As  he  beheld  this,  Montgomery 
changed  the  head  of  his  army,  and  advanced  upon  the 
town  of  Etchoee,  which  it  had  been  their  purpose  to  de 
fend,  and  from  which  they  now  strove  to  divert  him.  This 
movement  alarmed  them  for  their  wives  and  children 
Their  retreat  became  a flight ; and,  satisfied  with  having 
inflicted  upon  them  this  measure  of  punishment,  the 
British  General  prepared  to  march  back  to  Fort  Prince 
George. 

This  decision  was  the  result  of  his  exigencies.  The 
situation  of  his  army  was  neither  a safe  nor  an  agreeable 
one.  The  victory  was  with  the  Carolinians,  yet  the  affair 
was  very  far  from  decisive  in  its  consequences.  The 
enemy  had  only  retired  from  one  advantageous  position  to 
another.  They  waited  his  approach  only  to  renew  a con- 
flict in  which  even  victory  might  be  without  its  fruits.  To 
gain  a battle,  unless  a final  one,  was,  with  a force  so  small 
as  his,  a matter  of  very  doubtful  advantage.  He  was 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


43 


already  encumbered  with  his  wounded,  to  fuitish  horses 
for  whom,  he  was  compelled  to  discard,  and  to  destroy,  a 
large  quantity  of  the  provisions  necessary  for  the  army. 
What  remained  was  measured  with  a nice  reference  to 
their  absolute  wants  on  the  return  march  to  Prince  George. 
Under  these  suggestions  rf  prudence  the  retreat  was  begun. 
It  was  conducted  with  admirable  regularity.  The  Che- 
rokees,  meanwhile,  hung  upon  the  retiring  foosteps  of  the 
invaders,  annoying  them  to  the  utmost  of  their  power. 
Sixty  miles  of  mountainous  country  were  traversed  in  this 
manner,  and  under  various  hardships,  with  a skill  and 
intrepidity  which  confer  the  highest  credit  upon  the  Eng- 
lish captain.  A large  train  of  wounded  was  brought  to 
the  frontier  without  the  loss  of  a man. 

We  have  admitted  an  uncertainty  as  to  the  presence  ot 
Marion  in  this  campaign.  It  would  be  impertinent  and 
idle,  therefore,  to  speculate  upon  his  performances,  or  the 
share  which  he  might  have  taken  in  its  events.  Tradition 
simply  assures  us  that  he  distinguished  himself.  That,  if 
present,  he  did  his  duty,  we  have  no  question  ; and,  endur- 
ing with  becoming  resolution  the  worst  severities  of  the 
march,  proved  himself  possessed  o ' the  first  great  requisite 
for  soldiership  in  Indian  warfare. 


CHAPTER  IV 


Cherokee  war  continued. — Marion  leads  the  Forlorn  Hope  at  the 
Battle  of  Etchoee. 

The  Cherokees  were  very  far  from  being  subdued  or 
satisfied.  The  snake  had  been  “scotched  not  killed,”  and 
stung,  rather  than  humbled  by  the  chastisement  they  re- 
ceived, they  prepared  to  assume  the  offensive  with  sudden 
vigor.  Concentrating  a numerous  force  upon  the  distant 
garrison  of  Fort  Loudon,  on  the  Tennessee  river,  they  suc- 
ceeded in  reducing  it  by  famine.  Here  they  took  bloody 
revenge  for  the  massacre  of  their  chiefs  at  Prince  George 
The  garrison  was  butchered,  after  a formal  surrender  upon 
terms  which  guarantied  them  protection.  This  wholesale 
and  vindictive  barbarity,  while  it  betrayed  the  spirit  which 
filled  the  savages,  had  the  still  farther  effect  of  encouraging 
them  in  a warfare  which  had  so  far  gratified  very  equally 
their  appetites  for  blood  and  booty.  In  addition  to  this 
natural  effect.,  the  result  of  their  own  wild  passions,  there 
were  other  influences,  from  without,  at  work  among  then:. 
Certain  French  emissaries  had  crept  into  their  towns  and 
were  busily  engaged,  with  bribes  and  arguments,  in  stimu- 
lating them  to  continued  warfare.  This,  in  all  probability, 
was  the  secret  influence,  which,  over  all,  kept  them  from 
listening,  as  well  to  their  own  fears,  as  to  the  urgent  sug- 
gestions of  the  British  authorities,  for  peace.  Hitherto,  the 
Cherokees  had  given  no  ear  to  the  temptations  of  the 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


45 


French,  whom  they  considered  a frivolous  people,  and 
whose  professions  of  faith  they  were  very  likely  to  have 
regarded  with  distrust.  But  the  labors  of  their  emissaries 
at  this  juncture,  harmonizing  with  the  temper  of  the  nation, 
were  necessarily  more  than  usually  successful.  One  of 
these  emissaries,  Louis  Latinac,  an  officer  of  considerable 
talent,  proved  an  able  instigator  to  mischief.  He  per- 
suaded them,  against  the  better  reason  of  their  older  chiefs, 
to  the  rejection  of  every  overture  for  peace.  Their  suc- 
cesses at  Fort  Loudon  were,  perhaps,  sufficient  arguments 
for  the  continuance  of  war,  but  there  were  others  not  less 
potent.  The  king  of  France  was  now  to  be  their  ally  in 
place  of  him  of  Great  Britain.  The  one  “ great  father” 
was  no  less  able  than  the  other  to  minister  to  their 
appetites  and  necessities.  His  arms  and  ammunition 
replaced  those  which  had  been  withdrawn  by  the  latter  ; 
and  we  may  suppose  that  the  liberality  of  the  new  allies 
was  such  as  to  admit  of  very  favorable  comparison  and 
contrast  with  that  which  they  had  experienced  at  the 
hands  of  the  British.  Their  very  excesses  in  the  war 
were  favorable  to  its  continuance  ; as  they  might  very 
well  doubt  the  binding  force  of  treaties  between  parties, 
the  bad  faith  of  whom  had  been  written  so  terribly  in 
blood.  At  a great  meeting  of  the  nation,  at  which  Louis 
Latinac  was  present,  he,  with  something  of  their  own 
manner,  seizing  suddenly  upon  a hatchet,  struck  it  vio- 
lently into  a block  of  wood,  exclaiming,  as  he  did  so, 

1 Who  is  the  warrior  that  will  take  this  up  for  the  king 
if  France  ?”  Salouee,  a young  chief  of  Estatoee,  instantly 
ore  the  weapon  from  the  tree.  He  declared  himself  for 
nstant  and  continued  war.  “ The  spirits  of  our  slain 
irothers,”  was  his  cry,  “ call  upon  us  to  avenge  their 
massacre.  He  is  a woman  that  dares  not  follow  me  ” 
Such  being  the  spirit  of  the  savages,  the  Carolinians 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


It) 

had  no  alternative  but  to  resume  their  arms.  Col  Mont- 
gomery having  gone  to  England,  the  command  devolved 
upon  Colonel  Grant,  and  the  Highlanders  were  once  more 
ordered  to  the  relief  of  the  province.  The  Carolinians 
were  now  somewhat  better  prepared  to  co-operate  with 
their  allies.  A native  regiment  of  twelve  hundred  men 
was  raised,  and  the  command  given  to  Col.  Middleton 
a brave  and  accomplished  provincial  officer. 

To  this  regiment  Marion  was  attached,  under  the  imme- 
diate command  of  Moultrie.  Many  of  his  associates  in 
this  Cherokee  war  became  subsequently,  like  himself,  dis- 
tinguished in  the  war  with  Great  Britain.  Among  these 
may  be  mentioned  the  names  of  Moultrie,*  Henry  Lau- 
rens, Andrew  Pickens  and  Isaac  Huger.  These  were  all 
officers,  even  in  that  early  day,  and  Marion  himself  held  a 
lieutenancy  — some  proof  that,  however  little  we  may 
know  of  the  circumstances  by  which  he  secured  the  confi- 
dence of  his  neighbors,  he  was  already  in  full  possession 
of  it.  How  much  of  the  future  acts  and  successes  of 
these  brave  men  was  due  to  the  exercises  and  events  of 
this  Cherokee  war,  may  reasonably  be  conjectured  by  every 
reader  who  knows  the  value  of  a stern  apprenticeship  to  a 
hazardous  profession.  Its  successive  campaigns  against  no 
inferior  enemy,  and  under  circumstances  of  peril  and  pri- 

* Moultrie  in  his  Memoirs,  vol.  2,  p.  223,  would  seem  to  set- 
tle the  question  in  the  negative,  whether  Marion  was  or  was  not 
in  the  preceding  campaign.  He  says,  “ General  Marion  and 
myself  entered  the  field  of  Mars  together,  in  an  expedition  against 
the  Cherokee  Indians,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  James 
Grant,  in  1761,  when  I had  the  honoi  to  command  a light  infan- 
try company  in  a provincial  regiment;  he  was  my  first  lieuten- 
ant. He  was  an  active,  brave  and  hardy  soldier,  and  an  excel- 
lent panisan  officer.”  This  is  very  far  however  from  being 
conclusive,  inasmuch  as  we  have  seen  that  Marion  entered  the 
field  of  Mars  two  years  before,  under  the  command  of  his  bro- 
ther, in  the  first  campaign  of  Lyttleton  against  the  Indians.  This 
latter  fact  is  settled  beyond  all  question. 


LIFE  Or  MAHON. 


47 


vation  of  no  common  order,  were  such  as  must  have 
afforded  them  frequent  opportunity  of  making  themselves 
familiar  equally  with  the  exigencies  and  responsibilities  of 
command. 

To  the  united  forces  of  Colonels  Grant  and  Middleton, 
were  added  a certain  number  of  Chickasaw  and  Catawba 
Indians ; making  a total  of  twenty-six  hundred  men 
This  army  reached  Fort  Prince  George  on  the  29th  of 
May,  1761  On  the  7th  of  June  following,  it  took  up  the 
line  of  march  for  the  enemy’s  country.  The  advance  was 
conducted  with  caution,  but  without  molestation,  until  it 
reached  the  place  where  Montgomery,  in  the  previous 
campaign,  had  encountered  the  Indians,  near  the  town  of 
Etchoee.  Here  the  Cherokees  were  again  prepared  to 
make  a stand,  and  to  dispute  a pass  which,  above  all 
others,  seemed  to  be  admirably  designed  by  nature  for  the 
purposes  of  defence.  Their  position  was  not  exactly 
what  it  had  been  on  the  previous  occasion,  but  its. charac- 
teristic advantages  were  the  same.  Hitherto,  the  Indians 
had  shown  considerable  judgment  in  the  selection  of  their 
battle-grounds,  and  in  the  general  employment  of  their 
strength.  This  judgment  they  probably  owed  in  great 
part  to  their  present  adversaries.  Quick  in  their  instinct, 
and  surprisingly  observant,  they  had  soon  learned  the  ust 
of  European  weapons.  The  various  lessons  of  European 
tactics,  the  modes  of  attack  and  defence,  were,  in  their 
united  struggles  with  the  French,  equally  open  to  their 
study  and  acquisition.  They  had  not  suffered  these  les- 
sons to  escape  them.  But  they  probably  owed  something 
of  their  skill  in  the  present  war  to  the  active  counsels  of 
the  French  emissaries.  The  fact  is  not  recorded  by  the 
historian,  but  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  officers 
who  counselled  the  war,  would  withhold  themselves  when 
the  opportunity  offered,  from  giving  directions  in  the  field 


48 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


The  French  had  frequently  distinguished  themselves,  by 
leading  on  forces  entirely  composed  of  Indians.  The  prac- 
tice was  common.  Even  at  the  defeat  of  Braddock,  the 
French  troops  bore  but  a small  proportion  to  their  Indian 
allies.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Louis  Latinac 
was  not  present  at  one  or  both  of  the  bloody  fields  of 
Etchoee. 

The  provincial  army  marched  in  good  order  upon  the 
suspected  position.  The  Indian  auxiliaries,  who  were  in 
the  van,  first  discovered  signs  of  an  enemy.  The  Chero- 
kees  were  in  possession  of  a hill,  strongly  posted,  and  in 
considerable  force,  upon  the  right  flank  of  the  army. 
Finding  themselves  discovered,  they  opened  their  fire  upon 
the  advanced  guard,  and  followed  it  up  with  a gallant 
charge.  But  the  van  being  vigorously  and  promptly  sup- 
ported, they  were  driven  back,  and  resumed  their  position 
upon  the  hill.  Under  this  hill  the  line  of  march  lay 
for  a considerable  distance.  To  attempt,  therefore,  to 
continue  the  march  before  dislodging  the  enemy  in  posses- 
sion of  it,  would  be  to  expose  the  troops  to  a protracted 
fire,  the  more  murderous,  as  it  would  be  delivered  by  a 
foe  in  a position  of  perfect  security.  The  advanced  guard 
was  ordeied  upon  this  duty,  and  from  this  body  a forlorn - 
hope  of  thirty  men  was  chosen,  to  force  the  perilous  en- 
trance to  the  foe.  The  command  of  this  devoted  corps  was 
assigned  to  Francis  Marion,  still  a lieutenant  under  the 
command  of  Moultrie,  in  the  provincial  regiment  of  Mid- 
dleton. The  ascent  of  the  hill  was  by  means  of  a gloomy 
defile,  through  which  the  little  band,  headed  gallantly  by 
their  leader,  advanced  with  due  rapidity ; a considerable 
body  of  the  army  moving  forward  at  the  same  lime  in  sup- 
port of  the  advance.  Scarcely  had  the  detachment  pene- 
trated the  defile,  when  the  war-whoop  gave  the  signal. 
The  savages,  still  concealed,  poured  in  a deadly  fire,  by 


Marion  leading  the  Forlorn  Hope  at  the  Battle  of  Etchou. — Page  48. 


LIFE  C F MARION 


49 

which  no  less  than  twenty-one  of  this  fated  band  were 
prostrated.*  Fortunately  their  leader  was  not  among 
them.  He  seems,  like  Washington,  to  have  been  the  spe- 
cial care  of  Providence.  The  residue  were  only  saved 
from  destruction  by  the  proximity  of  the  advance,  whose 
hurried  approach,  while  giving  them  safety,  brought  on  the 
main  action.  The  battle  was  fought  with  great  carnage  on 
both  sides.  The  Cherokees  were  not  only  well  pasted, 
but  they  were  in  great  numbers.  Repeatedly  dislodged  fy 
the  bayonet,  they  as  repeatedly  returned  to  the  attack ; 
and,  driven  from  one  quarter,  rallied  upon  another,  with  a 
tenacious  and  unshaken  valor  becoming  in  men  who  were 
defending  the  passes  to  the  bosom  of  their  country.  From 
eight  in  the  morning  until  noon,  the  fight  was  continued, 
not  only  without  intermission,  but  seemingly  without  any 
decisive  results  on  either  side.  But,  at  length,  the  patient 
resolution  of  the  whites  prevailed  ; and,  about  two  o’clock 
in  the  day,  the  field  was  yielded  by  the  reluctant  Cherokees 
to  their  superior  foes.  This  victory  determined  the  fate 
of  Etchoee,  a tbwn  of  considerable  size,  which  was  re- 
duced to  ashes 

The  result  of  this  fierce  engagement  seems  to  have 
broken  the  spirit  of  the  nation.  They  had  chosen  the 
position  of  greatest  strength  to  make  their  stand,  and 
brought  to  the  struggle  their  best  spirits  and  bravest  war- 
riors. In  the  issue,  they  had  shown,  by  their  dogged  and 
determined  valor,  the  great  importance  which  it  carried  in 
their  eyes.  The  day  once  decided  against  them,  they 
appeared  to  be  equally  without  heart  and  hope  ; they  no 
longer  appeared  in  arms — no  longer  offered  defence — and 
the  army  of  the  Carolinians  marched  through  the  heart  of 
the  nation,  searching  its  secret  settlements,  and  everywhere 

* Weems,  pp.  21.  Horry’s  MS.  Memoir,  pp.  58 
3 


50 


LIFE  C ? M A R I 0 N . 


inflicting  the  severest  penalties  of  war.  The  rest  cf  the 
campaign  was  an  easy  progress,  and  terrible  was  the  retri- 
bution which  it  brought  with  it.  No  less  than  fourteen 
of  their  towns,  in  tire  middle  settlements,  shared  the  fate 
cf  Etchoee.  Their  granaries  were  yielded  to  the  flames, 
their  cornfields  ravaged,  while  the  miserable  fugitives, 
flying  from  the  unsparing  sword,  took  refuge,  with  their 
almost  starving  families,  among  the  barren  mountains,  which 
could  yield  them  little  but  security.  A chastisement  so 
extreme  was  supposed  to  be  necessary,  in  order  to  subdue 
for  ever  that  lively  disposition  for  war,  upon  the  smallest 
provocation,  which,  of  late  years,  the  Cherokees  had  mani- 
fested but  too  frequently  ; but  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
the  means  which  were  employed  for  administering  this 
admonitory  lesson,  were  of  the  most  legitimate  character 
We  must  always  continue  to  doubt  that  humanity  required 
the.  destruction  of  towns  and  hamlets,  whose  miserable 
walls  of  clay  and  roofs  of  thatch  could  give  shelter  to  none 
but  babes  and  sucklings — women  with  their  young — those 
who  had  never  offended,  and  those  who  could  not  well 
offend— the  innocent  victims  to  an  authority  which  they 
never  dared  oppose.  The  reckless  destruction  of  theii 
granaries — fields  yet  growing  with  grain — necessarily  ex- 
posed to  the  worst  privations  of  famine  only  those  portions 
of  the  savage  population  who  were  least  guilty.  The 
warrior  and  hunter  could  readily  relieve  himself  from 
the  gnawing  necessities  of  hunger.  He  could  wander  off 
to  remote  tribes,  and,  armed  with  rifle  or  bow,  could  easily 
secure  his  game,  sufficient  for  his  own  wants,  from  the 
contiguous  forest.  But  these  were  resources  inaccessible 
to  the  weak,  the  old,  the  timid,  and  the  imbecile.  Surely, 
it  wras  a cruel  measure  of  war,  and  if  necessary  to  the. 
safety  of  the  whites,  renders  still  more  criminal  the  wan- 
ton excesses  of  the  latter,  by  which  it  w as  originally  pro- 


LIFE  Oi'MiRIO  N . 


51 


voted.  It  is  pleasing  to  be  able  to  show  that  Mai  ion  felt, 
in  this  matter,  as  became  that  rare  humanity  which  was 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  and  lovely  traits  in  his  charac- 
ter,— the  more  remarkable,  indeed,  as  shining  out  among 
endowments  which,  in  particular,  designated  him  for  a 
military  life — a life  which  is  supposed  to  need  for  its  stimu- 
lus so  much  that  is  sanguinary,  if  not  brutal,  in  one’s 
nature.  It  is  recorded  of  him,  that  the  severities  prac- 
tised in  this  campaign  filled  him,  long  after,  with  recollec- 
tions of  sorrow.  Writing  to  a friend,*  he  gives  a brief 
description  of  the  calamities  of  the  war,  in  terms  equally 
touching  and  picturesque.  “ We  arrived,”  he  writes,  “ at 
the  Indian  towns  in  the  month  of  July.  As  the  lands  were 
rich,  and  the  season  had  been  favorable,  the  corn  was 
bending  under  the  double  weight  of  lusty  roasting  ears 
and  pods  of  clustering  beans.  The  furrows  seemed  to 
rejoice  under  their  precious  loads — the  fields  stood  thick 
with  bread.  We  encamped  the  first  night  in  the  woods, 
near  the  fields,  where  the  whole  army  feasted  on  the 
young  corn,  which,  with  fat  venison,  made  a most  deli- 
cious treat. 

“ The  next  morning  we  proceeded,  ny  order  of  Colonel 
Grant,  to  burn  down  the  Indian  cabins.  Some  of  our  men 
seemed  to  enjoy  this  cruel  work,  laughing  very  heartily  at 
the  curling  flames  as  they  mounted,  loud-crackling,  over 
the  tops  of  the  huts.  But  to  me  it  appeared  a shocking 
sight.  “Poor  creatures!”  thought  I,  “we  surely  need 
not  grudge  you  such  miserable  habitations.”  But  when 
we  came,  according  to  orders , to  cut  down  the  fields  of 
corn,  I could  scarcely  refrain  from  tears.  For  who  could 
see  the  stalks  that  stood  so  stately,  with  broad  green 
leaves  and  gaily -tasselled  shocks,  filled  with  swe^t  milky 
fluid,  and  flour,  the  staff  of  life — who,  I say,  wither.! 


* In  a letter  quoted  by  Weems. 


life  of  Marion. 


62 

grief,  could  see  these  sacred  plants  sinking  under  oui 
swords,  with  all  their  precious  load,  to  wither  and  rot 
untasted,  in  their  mourning  fields  ! 

“ 1 saw  everywhere  around  the  footsteps  of  the  little  In- 
dian children,  where  they  had  lately  played  under  the 
shelter  of  the  rustling  com.  No  doubt  they  had  often  look- 
ed up  with  joy  to  the  swelling  shocks,  and  gladdened  when 
they  thought  of  their  abundant  cakes  for  the  coming  winter. 
When  we  are  gone,  thought  I,  they  will  return,  and  peep- 
ing through  the  weeds  with  tearful  eyes,  will  mark  the 
ghastly  ruin  poured  over  their  homes,  and  the  happy  fields 
where  they  had  so  often  played.  “ Who  did  this  ?”  they 
will  ask  their  mothers.  “ The  white  people,  the  Christians 
did  it!”  will  be  the  reply. 

1 It  would  be  no  easy  matter,”  says  Hewatt,  the  earliest 
regular  historian  of  Carolina,  “ to  describe  the  hardships 
which  this  little  army  endured,  in  the  wilderness,  from 
heat,  thirst,  watching,  danger,  and  fatigue.  Thirty  days  did 
Colonel  Grant  continue  in  the  heart  of  the  Cherokee  ter- 
ritories, and  upon  his  return  to  Fort  Prince  George,  the 
feet  and  legs  of  many  of  his  army  were  so  mangled,  and 
their  strength  and  spirits  so  much  exhausted,  that  they 
were  unable  to  march  farther.”  But  the  chastisement 
which  the  Indians  had  received,  secured  the  object  for  the 
attainment  of  which  it  was  inflicted.  The  Cherokees  sued 
for  peace,  and  Marion  once  more  retired  to  the  obscurity 
of  rural  life ; we  may  well  believe  with  a human  sense  of 
satisfaction,  that  the  painful  duty  upon  which  he  had  been 
engaged  was  at  length  over.  Unhappily,  the  details  of 
the  war,  beyond  those  which  we  have  given,  do  not  ena- 
ble us  to  ascertain  the  extent  of  his  services.  We  are 
simply  told  that  he  behaved  well,  with  skill  and  spirit. 
More  than  this  perhaps  it  would  be  unreasonable  to  expect 
from  any  degree  of  talent,  in  the  subordinate  situation 
which  he  at  that  time  occupied. 


CHAPTER  V. 


1775. — Marion  is  returned  to  the  Provincial  Congress  fiom  St. 

John’s,  Berkeley. — Made  captain  in  the  2d  Regiment.-  / ort 

Johnson  taken. — Battle  of  Fort  Moultrie. 

Engaged  in  rural  and  domestic  occupations  we  hear  no 
more  of  Marion,  except  as  a citizen  and  farmer,  untd  the  be 
ginning  of  the  year  1775.  In  the  latter  capacity  he  is  reput- 
ed to  have  been  successful ; and  between  the  labors  and 
sports  of  the  field,  the  more  violent  humors  of  youth 
seem  to  have  been  dissipated  in  exercises  which  are  sel- 
dom followed  by  reproach.  He  was  very  fond  of  an- 
gling and  hunting,  and  with  rod  or  gun,  his  leisure  was  em- 
ployed in  a way  that  would  not  have  displeased  the 
gentle  Isaak  Walton.  These  constituted  his  chief  pastimes 
for  the  fourteen  years  that  had  elapsed  since  his  Cherokee 
campaigns.  His  connection  with  public  events  had  long 
since  ceased;  but,  from  all  accounts,  he  still  continued,  in 
some  degree,  to  fill  the  eyes  of  his  countrymen.  His  firm- 
ness and  purity  of  character,  his  gentle  temper,  known 
bravery,  and  the  conduct  which  he  had  already  manifested 
in  war,  had  secured  to  him  the  confidence  and  the  affec- 
tions of  his  neighbors.  He  had  attained  that  place  in  their 
esteem  which  naturally  brought  him  conspicuously  before 
their  eyes  in  the  moment  of  emergency.  Emergencies 
were  now  approaching  of  a kind  well  calculated  to  bring 


64 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


into  the  field  all  the  energies,  with  all  the  patriotism  of 
the  country.  The  great  struggle  was  at  hand  between  the 
colonies  and  that  mighty  empire  by  which  they  had  been 
established.  Of  the  part  taken  by  South  Carolina  in  this 
conflict,  history  has  already  sufficiently  informed  us.  Her 
movements  were  made  without  reserve — her  resolves  taken 
promptly,  and  steadily  maintained  with  her  best  blood  and 
treasure.  Her  battles  were  among  the  boldest  and  blood 
iest,  as  they  were  among  the  first  and  last  of  the  revolu- 
tion. Of  the  political  steps  by  which  she  committed  her- 
self to  that  event,  it  does  not  need  that  we  should  enter 
into  details.  These  belong  rather  to  general  history  than 
to  biography.  It  will  be  enough  to  exhibit  those  particu- 
»ars  only,  of  her  progress,  in  which  the  subject  of  our  me- 
moir was  more  immediately  interested.  That  he  took  an 
early  and  deep  concern  in  the  contest  may  be  inferred  from 
his  character.  That  he  should  not  have  become  an  active 
politician  may  also  be  inferred  from  his  known  modesty, 
and  the  general  reserve  of  his  deportment  in  society.  He 
was  no  orator,  and  no  doubt  felt  quite  as  awkward  in  de- 
bate as  Washington.  But  his  opinions  wrere  well  known  • 
he  was  not  the  person  about  whose  ways  of  thinking,  in 
trying  times,  his  neighbors  could  entertain  either  doubt 
or  discussion.  He  formed  his  opinions  as  promptly  as  he 
fought  for  them,  and  his  character  was  above  concealment. 
We  find  him  accordingly,  in  1775,  returned  to  the  Provin- 
cial Congress  of  South  Carolina,  as  a member  from  St. 
John,  Berkeley.*  This  Congress  distinguished  itself  bj 
committing  the  people  of  South  Carolina  to  the  final  des- 
tinies of  the  Revolution.  It  adopted  the  American  Bill  of 

* “ For  St.  John’s,  Berkeley  County — James  Ravenel,  Daniel 
Ravenel,  Job  Marion , John  Frierson,  Esqrs.,  Mr.  Gabriel  Giguil- 
liat,  Mr.  Francis  Marion."  Journals  of  the  Provincial  Congress 
of  South  Carolina. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


55 


Rights,  as  declared  by  the  Continental  Congress — adopted 
the  famous  u act  of  association,”  recommended  by  the 
same  federative  body  to  all  the  colonies,  by  which  the  sub- 
scribers bound  themselves  to  refuse  and  to  prevent  the 
importation  of  goods,  wares  and  merchandize,  from  the 
mother  country  ; established  committees  of  safety  through- 
out the  province,  and,  in  short,  in  possession  of  almost  dic- 
tatorial powers,  did  not  hesitate  to  use  them  for  the  public 
welfare.  It  was  at  particular  pains  to  infuse  a martial 
spirit  among  the  people  ; and,  influenced  by  this  spirit,  and 
under  the  immediate  suggestion,  and  by  direct  participation, 
of  this  assembly,  certain  overt  acts  of  treason  were  committed. 
The  public  armory  in  Charleston  was  broken  open  by  night, 
and  eight  hundred  stand  of  arms,  two  hundred  cutlasses,  be- 
sides cartouches,  flints,  matches  and  other  necessary  materi- 
als of  war,  were  withdrawn  without  discovery.  One  party 
possessed  itself  of  the  public  powder  at  Hobcau ; another 
emptied  Cochran’s  Magazine,  while  a third,  as  above  stated, 
relieved  the  state  armory  of  its  contents.  In  all  these  pro- 
ceedings, the  members  of  the  Provincial  Congress  displayed 
the  energies  of  men,  who,  having  once  set  their  hands  to  the 
plough,  have  resolved  not  to  be  turned  away  from  it.  Un- 
der that  bolder  policy  which,  by  provoking  the  danger, 
compels  the  timid  to  a part  in  it  from  which  they  might 
otherwise  shrink  in  terror,  they  were  personally  engaged 
in  these  acts  of  treason.  We  may  reasonably  conclude 
that,  however  silent  as  a member,  Francis  Marion  was  not 
the  person  to  forbear  taking  active  part  in  the  more  hazard- 
ous duties  which  distinguished  the  doings  of  the  body  to 
which  be  belonged.  There  was  a generous  impulse  in  his 
character,  which  hurried  him  into  performance,  whenever 
work  was  to  be  done,  or  daring  became  necessary.  He 
could  approach  such  duties  with  a degree  of  cheerfulness, 
which  to  the  ordinary  mind,  thoughtful  only  of  the  conse- 


56 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


quences  and  responsibilities  of  action,  seemed  to  partake 
of  levity  and  recklessness.  There  was,  indeed,  an  element 
of  playfulness,  we  had  almost  said  fun,  in  his  character  ; 
a quiet  and  unobtrusive  humor,  which  enlivened  his  utter- 
ance, and  softened,  with  a gentle  aspect,  a countenance 
that  might  otherwise  have  been  esteemed  severe.  We 
have  no  doubt  that  the  native  courage,  and  the  elastic  spi- 
rit of  his  temperament  made  him  an  active  participant  in 
all  those  deeds  of  decision,  which  the  deliberations  of  the 
body  to  which  he  belonged,  deemed  it  necessary  should  be 
done.  We  can  very  well  imagine  him  conspicuous  among 
those  masked  and  midnight  bands,  commissioned  to  do 
mischief  for  the  public  good,  by  which  the  arsenals  were 
stripped  of  their  contents,  and  the  tea-  chests  tumbled  into 
Cooper  river.* 

The  Provincial  Congress  having  thus  committed  the 
country,  without  doubt,  to  the  destinies  of  war,  and  having, 
to  some  extent,  provided  against  its  consequences,  adjourn- 
ed to  re-assemble  on  the  20th  June,  1775.  But  this  inter- 
val was  shortened  by  the  occurrence  of  events  equally 
unexpected  and  important.  The  battle  of  Lexington,  in 
the  meantime,  had  taken  place,  and  any  hopes  which 
might  have  been  entertained,  of  a final  reconciliation  be- 
tween the  two  countries,  without  a trial  of  strength,  was 
fairly  dismissed  from  every  reflecting,  if  not  every  loyal 
mind.  Instead  of  the  20th  of  June,  the  Provincial  Con- 
gress was  brought  together  on  the  first  day  of  that  month. t 

* It  is  not  so  generally  known  that  South  Carolina  did  her 
part,  as  well  as  Massachusetts,  in  destroying  teas  and  stamped 
paper. 

t A letter  from  Isaac  Marion , one  of  the  brothers  of  onr  subject, 
who  dwelt  at  Little  River,  the  Northern  boundary  of  the  province, 
is  worthy  ;f  quotation,  as  serving  to  show  that  he  was  animated 
with  the  same  public  spirit  that  possessed  his  more  distinguished 
kinsman.  It  was  written  to  accompany  the  express,  which  broughi 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


57 


The  members  of  this  body,  assemblies  according  to 
summons,  proceeded,  with  the  utmost  vigor,  to  the  con- 
sideration of  the  subjects  before  them.  They  ap- 
proached their  tasks  with  equal  speed  and  solemnity. 
Their  labors  were  commenced  with  Divine  Service,  and 
an  act  of  association  was  then  passed,  though  not  without 
considerable  opposition.  This  act  ran  as  follows  : — 

“ The  actual  commencement  of  hostilities  against  this 
Continent  by  the  British  troops,  in  the  bloody  scene  of  the 
19th  of  April  last,  near  Boston — the  increase  of  arbitrary 
imposition  from  a wicked  and  despotic  ministry — and  the 
dread  of  insurrections  in  the  Colonies — are  causes  sufficient 
to  drive  an  oppressed  people  to  the  use  of  arms.  We, 
therefore,  the  subscribers,  inhabitants  of  South  Carolina, 
holding  ourselves  bound  by  that  most  sacred  of  all  obliga- 
tions, the  duty  of  good  citizens  to  an  injured  country,  and 
thoroughly  convinced,  that,  under  our  present  distressed 
circumstances,  we  shall  be  justified  before  God  and  man, 
in  resisting  force  by  force — do  unite  ourselves,  under  every 
tie  of  religion  and  honor,  and  associate  as  a band  in  her 
defence,  against  every  foe — hereby  solemnly  engaging, 

the  news  of  the  battle  of  Lexington.  A letter  to  him,  from  R. 
Howe,  of  N.  C.,  forwarding  the  express,  remarking,  “ I know  you 
stand  in  no  need  of  being  prompted  when  your  country  requires 
your  service” — would  seem  to  show  that  he  too  had  shared  in  the 
reputation  of  his  brother.  The  following  is  the  letter  of  Isaac 
Marion,  addressed  to  the  Committee  of  Safety  of  Little  River 

Boundary,  May  9,  1775,  Little  River. 

Gentlemen  of  the  Committee  ; — I have  just  now  received  an  ex- 
press, from  the  Committee  of  the  Northern  Provinces,  desiring  I 
would  forward  the  enclosed  packet  to  the  Southern  Committees 
As  yours  is  the  nearest,  I request  for  the  good  of  your  country , and 
the  welfare  of  our  lives,  liberties,  and  fortunes,  you’ll  not  lose  a 
moment’s  time,  but  dispatch  the  same  to  the  Committee  of  George- 
town, to  be  forwarded  toCharleston.  In  meantime,  am,  gentlemen 
Your  obliged  humble  servant,  &c. 

Isaac  Marion. 

To  Danness,  Hawkins  and  others 
3* 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


5S 

that,  whenever  our  Continental  and  Provincial  Councils 
shall  deem  it  necessary,  we  will  go  forth,  and  be  ready  to 
sacrifice  our  lives  and  fortunes  to  secure  her  freedom  and 
safety.  This  obligation  to  continue  in  force,  until  a recon- 
ciliation shall  take  place  between  Great  Britain  and  Ame- 
rica, upon  Constitutional  principles — an  event  which  we 
most  ardently  desire.  And,  we  will  hold  all  those  per- 
sons inimical  to  the  liberty  of  the  Colonies,  who  shall  refuse 
to  subscribe  to  this  association.”* 

This  open  declaration  was  followed  up  with  measures 
equally  fearless  and  decisive.  On  the  fourth  day  of  the 
session,  the  Provincial  Congress  resolved  to  raise  fifteen 
hundred  infantry,  rank  and  file,  in  two  regiments  ; and  four 
hundred  and  fifty  horse,  constituting  another  regiment.  The 
troops  so  to  be  raised,  were  to  be  subjected  to  military  dis- 
cipline, and  to  the  articles  of  war,  in  like  manner  with  the 
British.  On  the  fourteenth  day  of  their  session,  a million 
of  money  was  voted,  and  a council  of  safety  was  elected, 
vested  with  the  executive  power  of  the  colony.  Among 
other  acts  of  this  body,  non-subscribers  to  the  association 
were  made  amenable  to  the  General  Committee,  and  pun- 
ishable according  to  sound  policy.  Absentees  having  es- 
tates, were,  with  certain  exceptions,  required  to  return ; 
and  it  was  further  resolved  that  no  persons  ought  to  with- 
draw from  the  service  of  the  Colony,  without  giving  good 
and  sufficient  reasons  to  the  Provincial  Congress.  Mili- 
tary duty  was  performed  day  and  night,  as  in  a state  of  ac- 
tual warfare,  by  the  militia  companies  in  rotation ; and 
thus,  having  placed  the  province  in  a state  of  preparation, 
with  arms  in  the  hands  of  the  people,  and  given  to  the  new- 
ly arrived  Governor,  Lord  William  Campbell,  a reception 
which  boded  small  repose  to  his  authority,  the  Provincial 
Congress  adjourned  itself  on  the  22d  day  of  June,  leaving 
* Drayton’s  Memoirs,  Yol.  i.,  p.,  28. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


59 


their  authority,  in  great  part,  to  the  Council  of  Safety  and 
General  Committee. 

It  has  been  seen  that  the  only  share  which  Marion  had 
in  the  proceedings  of  this  body,  was  that  of  an  assenting 
member.  He  was  not  endowed  with  those  talents  which 
could  have  rendered  him  conspicuous  in  a deliberative  as- 
sembly. But  he  is  not  the  less  entitled  to  his  share  in  the 
merit  of  those  proceedings,  which  so  admirably  declared 
and  illustrated  the  patriotism  and  the  spirit  of  the  province  ; 
and  one  of  the  last,  decisive  measures  of  the  Provincial  Con- 
gress, happily  enabled  him  to  appear  in  the  character  upon 
which  he  was  more  likely  to  confer  distinction,  than  that  of 
the  orator.  He  was  elected  a captain  in  the  Second  Regi- 
ment, of  which  William  Moultrie,  formerly  his  captain  in 
the  Cherokee  campaign,  was  made  Colonel.  The  du- 
ties of  this  appointment  were  immediately  begun,  with  a 
promptness  at  once  due  to  the  necessities  of  the  case,  and 
his  own  character.  As  a proof  of  the  zeal  by  which  the 
newly  made  officers  were  (distinguished,  we  find  them  seek- 
ing recruits  so  early  as  the  20th  of  June,  and  while  the  body 
to  which  they  belonged  were  still  engaged  in  the  most 
laborious  duties  of  the  session.* 

Marion’s  commission  was  made  out  on  the  21st  June. 
Weems,  in  his  life  of  our  author,  gives  us  some  pictures, 
equally  lively  and  ludicrous,  of  his  progress  in  the  business 
of  recruiting,  upon  which,  in  connection  with  his  friend, 
Captain  Horry,  he  at  once  began.  This  gentleman  received 
his  appointment  as  captain  at  the  same  time,  and  in  the 
same  regiment,  with  Marion.  The  Provincial  Congress  had 
voted  a million  of  money,  by  which  to  carry  out  their  mea- 
sures, but  this  was  yet  to  be  procured,  and,  as  it  appears, 
rather  more  upon  the  credit  of  individuals  than  that  of  the 


Dray  'on’s  Memoirs,  vol.  i.,  p.  265.  Note. 


60 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


colony.  But  money,  in  times  of  danger,  seems  to  have  an 
instinct  of  its  own,  by  which  it  hides  itself  readily  from 
sight  and  touch.  It  was  no  easy  [natter  for  our  captains  to 
obtain  the  requisite  sums.  But  faith  and  zeal  did  more  for 
them,  and  for  the  cause,  than  gold  and  silver;  and  with 
very  inadequate  supplies,  but  in  fresh  and  showy  uniforms, 
our  young  officers  set  forth  on  the  recruiting  service. 
Their  route  lay  in  the  several  neighborhoods  of  Georgetown, 
Black  River,  and  the  Great  Pedee.  In  these  parts  both  of 
them  were  known.  Here,  indeed,  Marion  was  already  a 
favorite.  Accordingly,  they  succeeded  beyond  their  ex- 
pectations, and  were  soon  enabled  to  complete  the  full 
number  for  their  two  companies,  of  fifty  men  each. 
Another  circumstance,  apart  from  their  personal  popularity, 
probably  facilitated  their  objects.  Some  of  the  settlements 
into  which  they  penetrated  were  originally  founded  by  the 
Irish.  The  bitter  heritage  of  hate  to  the  English,  which 
they  brought  with  them  to  America,  was  transmitted  with 
undiminished  fervor  to  their  descendants.  It  was  easy  to 
show  that  the  power  which  had  trampled  upon  the  affec- 
tions of  their  fathers,  and  tyrannized  over  their  rights  in 
the  old  world,  was  aiming  at  the  same  objects  in  the  case 
of  their  children  in  the  new.  Atone  remove  only  from  the 
exiled  and  suffering  generation,  the  sons  had  as  lively  a 
recollection  of  the  tyrannies  of  Britain  as  if  the  experience 
had  been  immediately  their  own.  To  this  cause  our  re- 
cruiting officers  owed  some  of  their  success  in  the  present 
expedition.  Some  of  the  bravest  fellows  of  the  second 
regiment  were  picked  up  on  this  occasion.  It  was  the 
spirit  which  they  brought,  and  to  which  the  genius  of  Ma- 
rion gave  lively  exercise,  that  imparted  a peculiar  vitality 
at  all  times  to  his  little  brigade.  Among  these  gallant 
young  men  there  were  two  in  particular,  of  whom  tradition 
in  Carolina  will  long  retain  a grateful  recollection ; these 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


til 

were  Jasper  and  Macdonald.  Of  these  two,  both  ;f  whom 
sealed  their  patriotism  with  their  blood,  we  shall  yet  have 
something  further  to  deliver. 

While  the  friends  of  liberty  were  thus  active,  the  ad 
herents  of  the  crown,  in  tne  colony,  were  not  less  so. 
These,  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  were  equally  numer- 
ous and  influential.  They  possessed,  indeed,  certain  advan- 
tages in  the  discussion,  which,  in  some  degree,  served  to 
counterbalance  the  impelling  and  stimulating  influences 
which  always  belong  to  a mouvement  party.  They  carried 
with  them  the  prestige  of  authority,  of  the  venerable  power 
which  time  and  custom  seemed  to  hallow  ; they  appealed 
to  the  loyalty  of  the  subject ; they  dwelt  upon  the  dangers 
which  came  with  innovation  ; they  denounced  the  ambition 
of  the  patriot  leaders  ; they  reminded  the  people  of  the 
power  of  Great  Britain— a power  to  save  or  to  destroy — 
which  had  so  frequently  and  so  successfully  been  exerted 
in  their  behalf  in  their  numerous  and  bloody  conflicts  with 
the  Indians,  and  which  might  be  brought,  with  such  fearful 
emphasis,  upon  their  own  heads.  They  reminded  the  people 
that  the  Indians  were  not  exterminated,  that  they  still  hung 
in  numerous  hordes  about  the  frontiers,  and  that  it  needed 
but  a single  word  from  the  Crown,  to  bring  them,  once  more, 
with  tomahawk  and  scalping-knife,  upon  their  defenceless 
homes.  Already,  indeed,  had  the  emissaries  of  Great 
Britain  taken  measures  to  this  end.  The  savage  was  already 
shaking  off  his  apathy,  scenting  the  carnage  from  afar,  and 
making  ready  for  the  onset.  The  assurance, that  such  was 
the  case, was  doing  the  work  of  numerous  arguments  among 
the  timid  and  the  exposed.  Such  were  the  suggestions, 
appealing  equally  to  their  fears  and  gratitude,  which  the 
leading  loyalists  addressed  to  the  people.  They  were  sup- 
ported by  other  suggestions,  scarcely  less  potent,  which 
naturally  flowed  from  their  own  thoughts.  Why  should 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


62 

tliey  dare  the  conflict  with  Great  Britain  ? There  was  nc 
such  reason  for  it  as  in  the  case  of  the  northern  colonies. 
'1  hey  had  known  her  chiefly  by  benefactions  ; they  did  not 
conflict  with  her  in  shipping  or  in  manufactures  ; and  the 
arguments  for  discontent  and  resistance,  as  urged  by  the 
patriot  leaders,  did  not  reach  them  with  sufficient  force. 
What  was  the  tax  on  tea,  of  which  they  drank  little,  and 
the  duty  on  stamps,  when  they  had  but  little  need  for  legal 
papers  ? And  why  should  not  taxes  follow  protection,  which 
Great  Britain  had  not  often  withheld  in  the  need  of  a fa- 
vorite colony,  as  South  Carolina  had  unquestionably  been  r 
Let  us  do  justice  to  this  people.  The  loyalists — or,  as 
they  were  more  commonly  called,  and  as  we  shall  hereafter 
be  compelled  to  call  them,  the  Tories— were, probably,  in 
the  majority  of  cases,  governed  by  principle,  by  a firm  and 
settled  conviction,  after  deliberate  examination  of  the  case. 
That  they  might  have  thought  otherwise,  nay,  would  gra- 
dually have  adopted  the  opinions  of  the  patriots,  is  not 
improbable,  had  more  time  been  allowed  them,  and  had 
the  course  of  the  latter  been  more  indulgent  and  consi- 
derate. Unfortunately,  this  was  not  the  case  ; and  the 
desire  to  coerce  where  they  could  not  easily  convince,  had 
the  effect  of  making  a determined  and  deadly,  out  of  a 
doubtful  foe.  This  was  terribly  proved  by  the  after  his- 
tory. To  this  cause  we  may  ascribe,  in  some  degree,  the 
terrors  of  that  sanguinary  strife,  in  which,  to  use  the  lan- 
guage of  a distinguished  officer,  they  “ pursued  each  other 
father  like  wild  beasts  than  men.”*  We  shall  see.  some- 
thing of  this  history  as  we  proceed  in  ours. 

There  was  yet  another  circumstance  which  tended,  in 
some  degree,  to  give  courage  to  the  Tories.  It  was  the 
somewhat  temporizing  policy  of  the  patriots.  There  was 

* Letter  of  General  Greene.  See  Johnson’s  Greene 


LIFE  OF  MASIOK. 


63 


still  a feeling  ol'  doubt,  a hesitancy,  on  the  part  of  the  lat- 
ter, as  the  prospects  grew  stronger  of  a final  breach  with 
Great  Britain.  There  were  many  who  still  clung  to  the 
hope  that  the  differences  of  the  two  nations  might  yet  be 
reconciled;  and  though  the  means  of  such  reconciliation 
did  not  make  themselves  obvious,  they  yet  fondly  cherished 
the  conviction  that  something  might  turn  up,  at  the  last 
moment,  to  prevent  the  absolute  necessity  of  bloodshed. 
This  portion  of  the  patriots  necessarily  influenced  the  rest ; 
those  who,  looking  beyond  the  moment,  saw  the  true  issue, 
and  properly  regarded  the  declared  objects  of  difference  as 
pretexts  which  must  suffice  when  the  better  reasons  might 
not  be  expressed.  They  dared  not  openly  broach  the  idea 
of  national  independence,  which,  there  is  very  little  question 
that  the  noblest  of  the  American  patriots  everywhere, 
though  secretly,  entertained  from  the  beginning.  The 
people  were  not  prepared  for  such  a revelation — such  a 
condition  ; and  appearances  were  still  to  be  maintained. 
Their  proceedings,  accordingly,  still  wore,  however  loosely, 
a pacific  aspect.  Though  actively  preparing  for  war,  the 
professions  of  the  patriots  declared  their  measures  to  be 
precautionary  only — a refuge,  an  alternative,  in  the  event 
of  greater  oppression.  They  still  spoke  the  language  of 
loyalty,  still  dealt  in  vague  assurances  of  devotion  to  the 
crown.  But  such  professions  deceived  nobody,  and  least 
of  ail  the  loyalists.  They  derived  courage  from  the  reluc- 
tance of  the  patriots  to  embark  in  a struggle,  for  the  fruits 
of  which,  if  successful,  they  evidently  longed.  They  were 
not  less  active — nay,  in  the  interior,  they  were  even  more 
active — than  their  opponents  ; had  already  taken  arms, 
and  gained  advantages,  which  nothing  but  decisive 
movements  on  the  jart  of  the  people  along  the  seaboard 
could  possibly  induce  them  to  forego.  This  necessity  was 
apparent  for  other  reasons.  In  consequence  of  the  tem- 


L 1 F L OF  MARION. 


G 1 

porizing  policy  already  mentioned,  the  crown  was  still  ir 
possession  ol’  most  of  the  shows  of  power  in  and  about 
Charleston.  The  royal  governor  was  still  in  the  city,  and 
in  some  degree  exerting  his  authority.  Fort  Johnson,  on 
James’  Island,  was  suffered  to  remain  in  the  hands  of  the 
king’s  troops  for  more  than  three  months  after  the  Provin- 
cial Congress  had  ordered  a levy  of  troops,  and  had  re- 
solved on  taking  up  arms.  Two  British  armed  vessels,  the 
Tamar  and  Cherokee,  lay  in  Rebellion  Roads,  opposite 
Sullivan’s  Island.  This  force  was  quite  sufficient,  under 
existing  circumstances,  to  have  destroyed  the  town.  But 
the  royal  leaders  were  not  prepared  for  this  issue ; they 
shared  the  reluctance  of  the  patriots  to  begin  a conflict, 
the  issues  of  which  were  so  extreme.  Their  policy,  like 
that  of  the  patriots — influencing  it,  and  possibly  influenced 
by  it — was  equally  halting  and  indecisive.  It  was  suffi- 
ciently satisfactory  if,  by  the  presence  of  such  a force,  the 
citizens  should  be  overawed  and  kept  from  action. 

This  condition  of  things  could  not  continue.  The  very 
nature  of  the  movement  was  adverse  to  indecision.  It  need- 
ed hut  a first  step — a first  stroke — and  this  was  to  be  taken 
by  the  patriots.  They  brooked  impatiently  the  humiliat- 
ing position  in  which  the  city  stood,  controlled  by  an  infe- 
rior enemy;  and  it  was  resolved  that  Fort  Johnson  should 
be  subdued.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Marion  first  drew 
his  sword  against  the  British.  He  was  one  of  those  Cap- 
tains who,  with  their  companies,  were  despatched  on  this 
expedition.  The  command  was  given  to  Col.  Moultrie.  A 
strong  resistance  was  expected,  as,  but  a short  time  before, 
the  garrison  had  been  reinforced  from  the  armed  vessels. 
At  midnight  on  the  fourteenth  of  September,  1775,  the  de- 
tachment crossed  to  James  Island.  The  disembarkation 
was  effected  with  delay  and  difficulty,  occasioned  by  the 
inadequate  size  and  number  of  the  boats.  The  forlorn  hope 


LIKE  OF  MARION 


65 


eonsisting  of  a detachment  fiom  the  grenadiers  of  Capt 
Pinckney,  joined  by  the  Cadets,  and  led  by  Lieut.  Mouatt, 
were  to  scale  the  walls  of  the  fort  on  its  south  bastion  ; 
Col.  Moultrie  with  the  rest  of  Pinckney’s  Grenadiers,  and 
Marion’s  Light  Infantry,  were  to  enter  or  force  the  gates 
over  the  ravelin  ; while  Capt.  Elliott,  with  his  grenadiers, 
penetrated  the  lower  battery  over  the  left  flank.  It  was 
broad  daylight  before  the  landing  was  effected  ; and  on 
making  the  assault  they  were  surprised  by  an  easy  victory. 
The  fort  was  abandoned.  The  enemy  had  probably  been 
apprised  of  the  attack.  A detachment  from  the  ships  had 
landed  some  hours  before — had  dismantled  the  fort,  dis- 
mounted the  cannon,  and  withdrawn  the  garrison  ; retreat- 
ing in  safety  to  the  ships.  A gunner  and  three  men  only, 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  provincials.  The  very  day  that 
this  event  occurred,  Lord  William  Campbell,  the  Governor, 
fled  to  the  Tamar  sloop  of  war.  His  flight  was  no  doubt 
hastened  by  a proceeding  so  decisive.  That  evening  he 
dispatched  his  secretary  to  Fort  Johnson,  which  he  was  not 
permitted  to  enter.  He  was  met  at  the  water-side  by  Capt. 
Pinckney,  of  whom  he  demanded,  in  the  name  of  the  Gov 
ernor,  by  what  authority  he  had  taken  and  held  possession 
of  the  fortress.  The  answer  to  this  demand  brought  up  the 
vessels  of  war,  which,  on  the  seventeenth  of  September, 
presented  themselves  within  point  blank  shot  of  the  fort. 
Up  to  this  time,  but  three  of  the  dismantled  cannon  had 
been  remounted  and  put  in  order  for  action.  With  these, 
the  provincials  prepared  for  battle,  relying,  however,  less 
upon  their  cannon  than  upon  their  ability  to  oppose  the 
landing  of  any  body  of  men.  But  the  demonstiation  of  the 
squadron  was  without  fruits.  They  hauled  off  without  a 
shot,  and  resumed  their  former  less  offensive  position. 

Here,  however,  the  popular  leaders  were  not  disposed 
to  suffer  them  to  remain.  Still  they  hesitated  at  coming 


C6 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


to  blows.  They  adopted  a middle  course,  which,  in  such 
cases,  is  generally  the  worst.  They  ordered  that  the  ships 
should  not  be  victualled  or  supplied  with  water  from  the 
city,  except  from  day  to  day.  This  produced  a threat  from 
Captain  Thornborough  that,  unless  supplied  as  before,  he 
should  prevent  the  ingress,  or  departure,  of  any  vessel 
from  the  harbor.  A menace  of  this  kind,  to  have  been 
properly  met,  should  have  been  answered  from  the  eighteen 
pounders  of  Fort  Johnson.  And,  but  for  the  reluctance  of 
several  highly  esteemed  patriots,  such  would  have  been  the 
mode  of  answer.  This  temporizing  policy  continued  to 
prevail  until  the  9th  November,  1775,  when  the  Provincial 
Congress  resolved,  “ by  every  military  operation,  to  oppose 
the  passage  of  any  British  Armament.”  Such  were  the 
orders  issued  to  the  officer  commanding  at  Fort  Johnson. 
This  fort  had  now  been  in  possession  of  the  popular  party 
for  nearly  two  months.  It  was  in  some  degree  prepared 
for  use.  It  was  well  manned  with  a portion  of  those  brave 
fellows  who  afterwards  fought  the  good  fight  of  Fort  Sul- 
livan.  They  would  have  done  as  good  service  here.  The 
resolution  of  the  Province  once  adopted,  it  was  communi- 
cated as  well  to  the  commanders  of  the  British  vessels,  as 
to  the  officers  of  the  fort.  There  was  still  an  open  pas- 
sage, through  Hog-Island  channel,  by  which  the  British 
vessels  might  approach  the  town  without  incurring  any 
danger  from  the  Fort.  This  passage  it  was  determined  to 
obstruct ; and  an  armed  schooner,  called  the  Defence,  fitted 
up  for  the  occasion,  was  ordered  to  cover  and  protect  a 
party  which  was  employed  to  sink  a number  of  hulks  in 
that  narrow  strait.  This  drew  upon  them  the  fire  of  the 
British.  It  was  returned  by  the  “ Defence,”  but  with 
little  injury  to  either  side.  The  garrison  at  Fort  John- 
son endeavored  to  take  part  in  this  little  action,  but  the 
distance  was  too  great  for  any  decisive  results  from  its  fire 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


67 


Some  of  the  shots  took  effect,  but  after  a few  rounds  the 
fire  was  discontinued.  Meanwhile,  the  alarm  was  beat  in 
Charleston,  where  the  troops  stood  to  their  arms,  and  every 
heart  throbbed  with  the  expectation  of  a close  and  bloody 
fight.  But  the  time  was  not  yet.  Indecisive  in  itself,  this 
brief  combat  was  of  great  importance  in  one  point  of  view. 
It  was  the  beginning  of  the  game.  The  blow  for  which 
all  parties  had  been  waiting,  was  now  fairly  struck.  The 
sword  had  been  drawn  from  the  scabbard,  not  again  to  be 
sheathed,  till  the  struggle  was  concluded.  The  local 
Congiess  proceeded  vigorously.  Ships  were  impressed 
for  the  purpose  of  war,  new  troops  were  enlisted  and 
armed,  and  bills  of  credit  issued.  The  British  vessels, 
meanwhile,  became  more  than „ ever  troublesome,  and, 
carrying  out  the  menace  of  Captain  Thornborough,  pro- 
ceeded to  the  seizure  of  all  vessels  within  their  reach, 
whether  going  from  or  returning  to  the  port.  It  became 
necessary  to  drive  them  from  the  roadstead.  To  effect 
this,  Col.  Moultrie,  with  a party  of  newly  raised  Provin- 
cials and  the  Charleston  Artillery,  took  post  on  HaddrilPs 
Point,  and,  mounting  a few  pieces  of  heavy  artillery,  open- 
ed upon  them  with  a well-directed  fire,  which  drove  them 
out  to  sea.  This  step  was  followed  by  one  of  preparation. 
The  fortifications  at  Fort  Johnson  and  HaddrilPs  Point 
were  completed — the  city  was  fortified — a new  fort  was 
raised  on  James’,  and  another  begun  on  Sullivan’s  Island. 
The  militia  were  diligently  trained,  the  provincial  troops 
augmented  and  disciplined,  and  all  means  within  the 
power  of  the  Colony  were  put  in  requisition  to  prepare  it 
for  defence.  Among  other  preparations,  a military  post 
was  established  at  the  town  of  Dorchester,  and  strongly 
fortified.  This  post  was  nearly  at  the  head  of  navigation 
on  Ashley  river,  about  twenty  miles  from  Charleston. 
Though  now  utterly  desolate,  Dorchester  was,  prior  U 


S3 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


the  Revolution,  a town  of  considerable  population  and  im- 
portance. Its  abandonment  may  be  ascribed  to  the  Revo- 
lution, during  which  it  was  maintained  as  a military  post  by 
the  Americans  or  British.  To  this  place  the  public  stores 
and  records  were  in  great  part  transferred  from  Charleston, 
as  to  a place  of  safe-keeping.  The  command  was  given 
to  Marion.  While  in  this  command  we  do  not  find  him 
concerned  in  any  events  of  importance.  A couple  of  his 
original  letters,  dated  from  this  post,  lie  before  us.  They 
refer  only  to  ordinary  events,  but  contain  some  expressions 
which  denote  the  ardency  of  his  patriotism,  and  the  disap- 
pointments to  which  it  was  not  unfrequently  subjected  in 
consequence  of  the  apathy  of  others.  Referring  to  the 
reluctance  shown  by  many,  of  whom  the  utmost  patriotism 
was  expected,  to  rally  around  the  flag  of  the  country,  he 
exclaims- — in  a partial  perversion  of  Scripture  language, 
but  without  irreverence,  “ Tell  this  not  in  the  streets  of 
Charleston,”  &c. 

From  this  post  Marion  was  removed  to  Charleston,  very 
probably  at  his  own  solicitation.  Events  were  ripening  in 
that  quarter,  of  a nature  calculated  to  give  becoming  em- 
ployment to  a mind  always  active,  and  desiring  nothing 
more  than  to  serve  his  country.  From  Charleston,  he  was 
despatched  to  Fort  Johnson,  where  he  was  busily  employed 
in  completing  the  defences  of  that  place.  Weems  pre- 
serves an  anecdote  of  him,  while  in  command  of  this  fort, 
in  January,  1776,  which  pleasantly  describes  the  quiet  and 
not  unamiable  sort  of  humor  in  which  Marion  was  fre- 
quently said  to  indulge.  While  exceedingly  busy  in  his 
preparations  for  defence,  there  came  to  him  a thoughtless 
young  officer,  who  loved  the  cockpit  much  better  than  con- 
sisted entirely  with  his  duties.  Christmas  and  New 
Year’s  Holidays  were  famous  at  that  early  period,  for  the 
exercise  of  this  cruel  sport  n some  parts  of  Carolina.  To 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


6S 


obtain  leave  of  absence,  however,  on  any  holiday  pretence, 
the  young  officer  very  well  knew  was  impossible.  Ap- 
proaching his  Commander  with  a lie  in  his  mouth,  he 
obtained  the  desired  permission,  in  order  to  receive  the 
last  blessing  of  a dying  father ; and,  exulting  in  the  un- 
worthy artifice,  he  hurried  to  Dorchester,  which,  on  that 
occasion,  was  to  be  the  scene  of  his  recreation.  During 
his  absence,  Marion  arrived  at  the  truth  of  the  story,  but 
said  nothing.  Wht  a the  youth  returned,  which  he  did  after 
two  weeks’  absence,  he  proceeded  to  the  marquee  of  his 
Commander,  to  report  himself,  and  began  a tedious  apology 
for  having  stayed,  so  long.  Marion  gently  interrupted  him, 
and,  with  a smile,  fn  the  presence  of  all  the  officers,  re- 
plied— Never  mind  it,  Lieutenant — there’s  no  harm  done 
— we  never  missed  you.”  The  effect  of  this  sarcasm  is 
said  to  have  been  admirable ; and  to  have  resulted  in  the 
complete  reform  of  the  offender,  who,  from  being  a trifling, 
purposeless,  and  unscrupulous  young  man,  grew  conside- 
rate equally  of  his  duties  and  his  word,  and,  by  a career 
of  industry,  sobriety  and  modesty,  made  ample  amends,  in 
future  days,  for  all  the  errors  of  the  past. 

With  the  formation  of  new  regiments,  under  the  re- 
solves of  the  Council  of  Safety,  Marion  was  promoted  to 
a Majority.  This  appointment  materially  enlarged  the 
sphere  of  his  duties.  But  he  was  one  of  those  remarkable 
men,  who,  without  pretension,  prove  themselves  equal  to 
any  trust  which  may  be  imposed  upon  them.  Without  the 
presence  of  an  actual  enemy,  he  addressed  himself  to  the 
task  of  preparing  his  men  for  the  encounter  with  them. 
He  was  constantly  on  parade,  at  the  drill,  closely  engaged 
in  the  work  of  training,  in  which  business,  while  very 
gentle,  he  was  very  exact ; and,  in  such  a degree  had  he 
improved  the  officers  and  men  immediately  under  his 
charge,  that  they  were  very  soon  regarded  as  a model  for 


70 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


all  the  rest.  He  was  called  the  “ architect  of  the  Second 
Regiment.”  Weems,  speaking  for  Col.  Horry,  says,  “ In 
deed,  I am  not  afraid  to  say  that  Marion  was  the  architect 
of  the  Second  Regiment,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  that 
excellent  discipline  and  confidence  in  themselves,  which 
gained  them  such  reputation  whenever  they  were  brought 
to  face  their  enemies.”  The  value  of  this  training  was 
very  soon  to  be  subjected  to  the  most  thorough  of  all  pos- 
sible tests.  He  was  ordered  with  his  Regiment,  under 
command  of  Col.  Wm.  Moultrie,  to  take  post  at  Fort  Sul- 
livan, on  the  island  of  that  name,  which  stands  at  the 
entrance  of  Charleston  harbor,  and  within  point  blank  shot 
of  the  channel.  The  difficulties  and  deficiencies  of  this  post, 
furnished  some  admirable  preparatory  lessons  for  the  great 
conflict  which  was  to  follow.  They  imposed  the  neces- 
sity of  diligent  industry  and  hard  labor,  equally  on  men 
and  soldiers.  This  was  one  of  the  famous  schools  of  Ro- 
man discipline.  Fort  Sullivan,  better  known  as  Fort 
Moultrie — was  yet  to  be  built.  When  the  Second  Regi- 
ment entered  it,  it  was  little  more  than  an  outline.  Its 
shape  was  described  upon  the  sand,  and  the  palmetto  rafts 
lay  around  it,  waiting  to  be  moulded  into  form.  The 
structure  was  an  inartificial  one — a simple  wall,  behind 
which  young  beginners  might  train  gun?  to  do  mischief  to 
a veteran  enemy  in  front.  Its  form  was  square,  with  a 
bastion  at  each  angle,  sufficiently  large,  when  finished,  to 
cover  a thousand  men.  If  was  built  of  logs,  laid  one  upon 
another  in  parallel  rows,  at  a distance  of  sixteen  feet, 
bound  together  at  frequent  intervals  with  timber,  dove- 
tailed and  bolted  into  the  logs.  The  spaces  between  were 
filled  up  with  sand.  The  merlons  were  walled  entirely  by 
palmetto  logs,  notched  into  one  another  at  the  angles,  well 
bolted  together  and  strengthened  with  pieces  of  massy 
timber.  Such  was  the  plan  of  the  work  ; but,  with  all  the 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


71 


diligence  of  the  officers,  and  all  the  industry  c f the  men,  it 
remained  unfinished  at  the  perilous  moment  when  a power- 
ful British  fleet  appeared  before  its  wralls.  The  defence 
was  confided  to  Col.  Moultrie.  The  force  under  his  com- 
mand was  four  hundred  and  thirty-five  men,  rank  and  file, 
comprising  four  hundred  and  thirteen  of  the  Second  Regi- 
ment of  Infantry,  and  twenty-two  of  the  Fourth  Regi- 
ment of  Artillery.  The  whole  number  of  cannon  mounted 
on  the  fortress  was  thirty-one,  of  these,  nine  were  French 
twenty-sixes ; six  Fnglish  eighteens ; nine  twelve  and 
seven  nine  pounders.* 

General  Charles  Lee,  who  had  been  dispatched  by  the 
Continental  Congress,  to  take  command  of  the  Arm}'  of 
the  South,  would  have  abandoned  the  fortress  even  before 
the  appearance  of  the  enemy.  He  was  unwilling,  in  such 
a position,  to  abide  the  conflict.  He  seems,  naturally 
enough  for  an  officer  brought  up  in  a British  Army,  to 
have  had  an  overweening  veneration  for  a British  fleet,  in 
which  it  is  fortunate  for  the  country  that  the  Carolinians 
did  not  share.  In  the  unfinished  condition  of  the  fort, 
which  really  presented  little  more  than  a front  towards  the 
sea,  his  apprehensions  were  justifiable,  and,  could  the  fort 
have  been  enfiladed,  as  the  British  designed,  it  certainly 
would  have  been  untenable.  From  the  moment  of  his 
arrival,  to  the  very  moment  when  the  action  was  raging, 
his  chief  solicitude  seems  to  have  been  to  ensure  the  de- 
fenders of  the  fortress  a safe  retreat.  It  is  to  their  im- 
mortal honor  that  this  mortifying  measure  was  unnecessary. 

On  the  20th  of  June,  1776,  a day  ever  memorable  in 
the  annals  of  Carolina,  the  British  ships  of  war,  nine  in 

* Weems,  in  his  Life  of  Marion,  represents  the  cannon  as 
made  up  principally  of  twenty-four  and  thirty-six  pounders; 
but  the  official  accounts  are  as  I have  given  them.  See  Drey 
ton’s  Memoirs,  vol.  ii , p 290-1. 


Lit1  E OF  A]  ARID  N 


’!2 

number,*  commanded  by  Sir  Peter  Parker,  drew  up  abreast 
of  the  fort,  let  go  their  anchors,  with  springs  upon  their 
cables,  and  commenced  a terrible  bombardment.  The  fa- 
mous battle  which  followed  makes  one  of  the  - brightest 
pages  in  our  history.  Its  events,  however,  are  too  gene- 
rally known  to  make  it  necessary  that  we  should  dwell 
upon  them  here.  A few,  however,  belong  properly  and 
especially  to  our  pages.  The  subject  of  this  memoir  was 
a conspicuous  sharer  in  its  dangers  and  in  its  honors.  The 
fire  cf  the  enemy  was  promptly  answered,  and  with  such 
efficiency  of  aim  as  to  be  long  remembered  by  the  survi- 
vors. Having  but  five  thousand  pounds  of  powder,  with 
which  to  maintain  a conflict  that  raged  for  eleven  hours, 
with  unabated  violence,  it  became  necessary,  not  only  that 
the  discharge  from  the  fort  should  be  timed,  but  that  every 
shot  should  be  made  to  do  execution.  In  order  to  do  this 
the  guns  were  trained  by  the  field-officers  in  person ; hence, 
perhaps,  the  terrible  fatality  of  their  fire.  The  Bristol, 
50  gun  ship,  Commodore  Sir  Peter  Parker,  lost  44 
men  killed  and  thirty')-  wounded.  Sir  Peter  himself  lost 
an  arm.  The  Experiment,  another  50  gun  ship,  had  57 
killed  and  30  wounded.  J To  these  two  vessels  in  par- 
ticular, the  attention  of  the  fort  was  directed.  The  words, 
passed  along  the  line  by  officers  and  men,  were — “ Look 
to  the  Commodore— look  to  the  fifty  gun  ships.”  § The 
smaller  vessels  suffered  comparatively  little.  Their  loss 
of  men  was  small.  The  injury  to  the  vessels  themselves 
was  greater,  and  one  of  them,  the  Acteon,  ran  aground, 
and  was  subsequently  burnt.  The  Carolinians  lost  but 
twelve  men  killed  and  twice  that  number  wounded.  One 

"■  Two  ships  of  fifty  guns  ; five  of  twenty-eight ; 1 of  twenty-sis 
and  a bomb-vessel.  Moultrie,  vol.  i.  p.  174-5. 

f Weems  says  100.  } British  account. 

§ Moultrie  Memoirs,  Vol.  i.,  note,  p.  177. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


73 


of  the  former  was  the  brave  fellow  Macdaniel,  of  whom 
we  have  already  spoken.  When  borne  from  the  embra- 
sure where  he  received  his  mortal  wourd,  he  cried  out  to 
those  around  him — “ Do  not  give  up — you  are  fighting  for 
liberty  and  country.”  The  want  of  powder  was  severely 
felt.  But  for  this,  judging  from  the  effects  of  the  fire 
from  the  fort,  the  British  Commodore  must  have  struck, 
or  his  fleet  must  have  been  destroyed.  So  slow,  at  one 
time,  were  the  discharges — so  great  the  interval  of  time 
between  them, — that  the  British  were  of  opinion  that 
the  place  was  abandoned.  But  a new  supply  of  pow- 
der was  obtained  by  Marion,  who,  with  a small  party, 
leaving  the  fort,  proceeded  to  the  armed  schooner 
Defence,  lying  in  Stop  Gap  Creek,  and  seized  upon 
her  powder,  by  which  the  fire  was  kept  up  until  a sup- 
ply of  five  hundred  weight  was  received  from  the  city.*  This 
caused  a renewal  of  the  conflict  in  all  its  fury  The  garri- 
son fought  with  a coolness  which  would  have  done  honor 
to  veterans.  The  day  was  very  warm,  and  the  men  par- 
tially stripped  to  it.  Moultrie  says,  “ When  the  action 
began  (it  being  a warm  day),  some  of  the  men  took  oft’  their 
coats  and  threw  them  upon  the  top  of  the  merlons.  I saw 
a shot  take  one  of  them  and  throw  it  into  a small  tree  be- 
hind the  platform.  It  w*as  noticed  by  our  men,  and  they 
cried  out,  “ look  at  the  coat !”  A little  incident  that  speaks 
volumes  for  their  coolness.  Moultrie  himself  and  several 
of  his  officers  smoked  their  pipes  during  the  action,  only 
removing  them  when  it  became  necessary  to  issue  orders. 
In  the  hottest  fire  of  the  battle  the  flag  of  the  fort  was  shot 
away,  and  fell  without  the  fort.  Jasper,  with  whom  we 
have  already  brought  the  reader  acquainted  as  one  of 
Marion’s  men,  instantly  sprang  after  it  upon  the  beach, 

’MS.  Life  of  Br  g.-Gen.  Peter  Horry,  p.  21. 


4 


74 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


between  the  ramparts  and  the  enemy,  and  binding  it  to  a 
sponge  staff,  restored  it  to  its  place,  and  succeeded  in  re- 
gaining his  own  in  safety.  We  shall  hear  more  hereafter, 
of  this  gallant  fellow.*  The  coolness — nay  the  cavalier 
indifference — displayed  by  the  Carolinians  throughout  the 
combat,  is  not  its  least  remarkable  feature.  There  is  some- 
thing chivalric  in  such  deportment,  which  speaks  for  larger 
courage  than  belongs  to  ordinary  valor.  Mere  bull-dog 
resolution  and  endurance  is  here  lifted,  by  a generous  ar- 
dor of  soul,  into  something  other  than  a passive  virtue 
The  elasticity  of  spirit  which  it  shows  might  be  trained 
to  any  performance  within  the  compass  of  human  en- 
dowment. 

Tradition  ascribes  to  the  hand  and  eye  of  Marion,  the 
terrible  effect  of  the  last  shot  which  was  fired  on  this  bloody 
day.  It  was  aimed  at  the  Commodore’s  ship,  which  had 
already  received  something  more  than  her  due  share  of  the 
attention  of  the  fort.  This  shot,  penetrating  the  cabin  of 

*Gen.  Horry  (then  a captain)  thus  relates  the  incident:  “I 
commanded  an  eighteen  pounder  in  the  left  wing  of  the  fort.  Above 
my  gun  on  the  rampart,  was  a large  American  flag  hung  on  a 
very  high  mast,  formerly  of  a ship  ; the  men  of  war  directing 
their  fire  thereat,  it  was,  from  their  shot,  so  wounded,  as  to  fall, 
with  the  colors,  over  the  fort.  Sergeant  Jasper  of  the  Grena- 
diers leapt  over  the  ramparts,  and  deliberately  walked  the  whole 
length  of  the  fort,  until  he  came  to  the  colors  on  the  extremity 
of  the  left,  when  he  cut  off  the  same  from  the  mast,  and  called  to 
me  for  a sponge  staff,  and  with  a thick  cord  tied  on  the  colors 
and  stuck  the  staff  on  the  rampart  in  the  sand.  The  Sergeant 
fortunately  received  no  hurt,  though  exposed  for  a considerable 
time,  to  the  enemy’s  fire.  Governor  Rutledge  [after  the  battle], 
as  a reward,  took  his  small  sword  from  his  side,  and  in  presence 
of  many  officers,  presented  it  to  Sergeant  Jasper,  telling  him  to 
wear  it  in  remembrance  of  the  28th  June,  and  in  remembrance 
ot  him.  He  also  offered  Jasper  a Lieutenant’s  commission,  but 
as  he  could  neither  read  nor  write,  he  modestly  refused  to  accept 
it,  saying,  ‘ he  was  not  fit  to  keep  officers’  company,  being  only 
bred  a Sergeant.’  ” — MS.  Life  of  Brig.-Gen.  Peter  Plorry,  pp. 
19-20. 


Battle  of  Fort  Moultrie. — Page  74. 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


75 


the  vessel,  cut  down  two  young  officers  who  were  drinking, 
we  may  suppose,  to  their  fortunate  escape  from  a conffict 
which  seemed  already  over — then  ranging  forward,  swept 
three  sailors  from  the  maindeck  into  eternity,  and  finally 
buried  itself  in  the  bosom  of  the  sea.  This  curious  par- 
ticular was  derived  from  five  sailors  who  deserted  from  the 
f'-ct  that  very  night. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


1777-8-9 — From  the  Battle  of  Fort  Moultrie  to  that  of  Savan- 
nah— Anecdote  of  Jasper — His  Death. 

The  battle  of  Fort  Sullivan  was  >f  immense  importance, 
not  merely  to  Carolina,  but  to  all  the  confederated  colo- 
nies. It  saved  the  former,  for  thre  i years,  from  the  calami- 
ties of  invasion ; a respite  of  the  last  value  to  a country 
so  greatly  divided  in  public  feeling  and  opinion.  The  bat- 
tle preceded  the  declaration  of  Independence,  and, though 
not  generally  known  to  have  taken  place  before  that  deci- 
sive measure  was  resolved  upon,  it  came  seasonably  to 
confirm  the  patriots  in  those  principles  which  they  had  so 
solemnly  and  recently  avowed.  Its  farther  effect  was  to 
dissipate  that  spell  of  invincibility,  which,  in  the  minds  of 
the  Americans, seemed  to  hover  about  a British  armament ; — 
to  heighten  the  courage  of  the  militia,  and  to  convince  the 
most  sceptical,  that  it  needed  only  confidence  and  practice, 
to  make  the  American  people  as  good  soldiers  as  any  in  the 
world.  The  Carolina  riflemen  were  not  a little  elated  to 
discover  that  they  could  handle  twenty-six  pounders  as 
efficiently  as  the  smaller  implements  of  death,  to  which 
their  hands  were  better  accustomed.  To  the  defenders  of 
the  fortress,  their  victory  brought  imperishable  laurels. 
They  had  shown  the  courage  and  the  skill  of  veterans,  and 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


77 


their  countrymen  gloried  in  the  reputation  in  which  they 
necessarily  shared.  Moultrie  received  the  thanks  of  Con- 
oress,  of  the  Commander  in  Chief,  and  of  his  fellow  citi- 
zens.  The  fort  was  thenceforth  called  by  his  name,  and  he 
was  made  a Brigadier-General.  His  Major,  Marion,  neces- 
sarily had  his  share  in  these  public  honors,  and  was  raised 
by  Congress  to  the  rank  of  Lieut. -Colonel  in  the  regular 
service.  Two  days  after  the  battle,  General  Lee  reviewed 
the  garrison  at  Fort  Moultrie,  and  thanked  them  u for  their 
gallant  defence  of  the  fort  against  a fleet  of  eight  men-of- 
war  and  a bomb,  during  a cannonade  of  eleven  hours,  and  a 
bombardment  of  seven.”  At  the  same  time,  Mrs.  Barnard 
Elliott  presented  an  elegant  pair  of  embroidered  colors  to 
the  Second  Regiment,  with  a brief  address,  in  which  she  ex- 
pressed her  conviction  that  they  would  “ stand  by  them  as 
long  as  they  can  wave  in  the  air  of  liberty.”  It  was  in 
fulfilling  the  pledge  made  by  General  Moultrie,  on  this  oc- 
casion, in  behalf  of  the  regiment,  that  the  brave  Jasper  lost 
his  life  before  the  walls  of  Savannah. 

The  three  years’  respite  from  the  horrors  of  war,  which 
this  victory  secured  to  Carolina,  was  not,  however,  left  un- 
employed by  her  citizen  soldiery.  The  progress  of  events 
around  them  kept  their  services  in  constant  requisition. 
YY  hile  a part  of  them,  in  the  interior,  were  compelled  to 
take  arms  against  the  Cherokee  Indians,  the  troops  of  the 
lower  country  were  required  against  the  Tories  in  Florida 
and  Georgia.  Governor  Tonyn  of  the  former,  an  active 
loyalist,  proved  a formidable  annoyance  to  the  patriots  of 
the  latter  province.  Florida,  under  his  administration,  was 
the  secure  refuge  and  certain  retreat  for  all  the  malcontents 
and  outlaws  of  the  neighboring  colonies.  He  gave  them 
ample  encouragement,  pat  arms  into  their  hands,  and  even 
issued  letters  of  marque  against  the  property  of  the  colo- 
nists, in  anticipation  of  the  act  for  that  purpose,  in  the  Bri- 


78 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


tish  parliament.  General  Lee  marched  upon  Florida  with 
the  Virginia  and  North  Carolina  troops  He  was  subse- 
quently joined  by  those  of  South  Carolina  , but,  owing  to 
his  own  ill-advised  and  improvident  movements,  the  expe- 
dition was  a total  failure.*  This  result  necessarily  gave 
encouragement  to  the  Tories  ; and,  though  in  too  small 
numbers  to  effect  any  important  objects  without  the  co-op- 
eration of  a British  force,  they  were  yet  sufficiently  active  to 
invite  the  presence  of  one.  They  formed  themselves  into 
little  squads,  and,  moving  through  the  country  with  celeri- 
ty, pursued  their  marauding  habits  at  little  risk,  as  they 
sought  only  unsuspecting  neighborhoods,  and  promptly  fled 
to  the  fastnesses  of  Florida  on  the  approach  of  danger.  To 
direct  and  properly  avail  themselves  of  these  parties,  the 
British  commanders  in  America  addressed  their  attention 
to  Georgia.  The  infancy  of  that  colony  necessarily  led 
them  to  hope  for  an  easy  conquest  in  attempting  it.  In 
February,  1777,  General  Howe,  then  commanding  the 
troops  in  North  Carolina  and  Georgia,  was  advised  of  the 
approach  of  Colonel  Fuser,  to  the  invasion  of  Georgia.  He 
hurried  on  immediately  to  prepare  Savannah  for  defence ; 
while  Marion,  with  a force  of  600  men,  in  several  vessels, 
provided  with  cannon  and  ammunition,  was  dispatched,  by 
the  inland  passage,  to  his  assistance.  Marion  left  Charles- 
ton on  the  28th  of  February,  but  his  approach  had  no  far- 
ther effect  than  to  precipitate  the  flight  of  the  enemy,  who, 
meeting  with  a stout  opposition  from  Colonel  Elbert,  at 
Ogechee  ferry,  had  already  desisted  from  farther  advance. 
The  British  attempts  on  Georgia  were  deferred  to  a later 
period.  But  the  loyalists  were  busy,  particularly  that  por- 
tion of  them,  which  took  the  name  of  Scopholites,  after  one 
Scophol,  a militia  Colonel,  whom  Moultrie  describes  as  an 


Drayton’s  Memoirs,  vol.  ii.,  p.  336. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


79 


“illiterate,  stupid,  noisy  blockhead.”  He  proved  not  the 
less  troublesome  because  of  his  stupidity. 

Marion  was  more  or  less  employed  during  this  period, 
in  various  situations.  He  was  never  unemployed.  W e 
find  him  at  length  in  command  of  the  fort  which  he  had 
formerly  contributed  to  defend  and  render  famous.  He  was 
placed  in  charge  of  the  garrison  at  Fort  Moultrie.  The 
value  of  this  fort  was  estimated  rather  according  to  its  ce- 
lebrity, than  its  real  usefulness.  Subsequent  events  have 
shown  that  its  capacity  was  not  great  in  retarding  the  ap- 
proach of  an  enemy’s  fleet  to  the  city.  It  was  the  error  of 
Sir  Peter  Parker — obeying  an  old  but  exploded  military 
maxim , not  to  leave  an  armed  post  of  the  enemy  in  his  rear — 
to  pause  before  a fortress,  the  conquest  of  which  could  in 
no  wise  contribute  to  his  success, — and  defeat  before  which, 
must  necessarily  endanger  his  final  objects.  It  was  still  the 
impression  of  the  Carolinians  that  Fort  Moultrie  must  be 
assailed  as  a preliminary  step  to  the  conquest  of  Charles- 
ton, and  the  post,  as  one  of  the  highest  honor  and  danger, 
was  conferred  upon  Marion.*  It  was  not  known,  indeed,  at 
what  moment  the  gallantry  of  the  garrison  might  be  put 
to  the  proof.  The  British  were  known  to  be  making  large 
marine  and  military  preparations  at  New  York,  intended,  as 
it  was  generally  understood,  for  the  south.  Charleston  or 
Savannah,  were  supposed  indifferently  to  be  the  places  of 
its  destination.  It  might  be  very  well  supposed  that  the 
enemy  would  seek,  at  the  former  place,  to  recover  those 
honors  of  war  of  which  its  gallant  defenders  had  deprived 
him. 

But,  any  doubt  as  to  the  destination  of  the  British  fleet 

* When  the  British  under  Prevost,  were  in  possession  of  the 
neighboring  islands,  Moultrie  writes,  “ we  were  apprehensive  the 
enemy  would  attempt  to  surprise  Fort  Moultrie ; we,  therefore, 
always  kept  a strong  garrison  there  under  General  Marion.’ 


eo 


LIFF  OF  MARION. 


was  soon  removed.  In  December,  1778,  thirty-seven  sail 
appeared  before  Savannah,  and  four  thousand  British  regu- 
lars were  disembarked.  The  American  force  left  in  de- 
fence of  Savannah  was  a feeble  one,  of  six  or  seven  hun- 
ched men,  under  General  Howe.  General  Howe  was  but 
little  of  a soldier  Instead  of  withdrawing  this  force,  he 
suffered  it  to  be  sacrificed.  Badly  posted,  he  was  surprised, 
and  his  troops  beaten  and  dispersec  with  little  difficulty. 
Savannah  fell  at  once  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  the 
whole  colony  very  shortly  after.  General  Prevost  was  in 
command  of  the  British.  Opposed  to  him  was  Major-Gen- 
eral Lincoln,  of  the  Continental  army.  While  Prevost  oc- 
cupied the  posts  of  Savannah,  Ebenezer,  Abercorn,  and 
other  places,  he  was  active  in  pushing  select  parties  for- 
ward to  Augusta,  and  other  commanding  points  in  the  inte- 
rior. The  force  under  Lincoln  did  not  enable  him  to  offer 
any  active  opposition  to  their  progress.  His  head-quarters 
were  at  Purysburg,  on  the  Savannah  river,  but  a few  miles 
from  Abercorn,  where  Colonel  Campbell  lay  with  the 
main  body  of  tbe  enemy.  General  Ashe,  of  the  Ameri- 
cans, occupied  the  post  at  Brier  Creek,  and, thus  placed,  the 
opposing  commanders  seemed  disposed  for  a while  to  rest 
upon  their  arms,  waiting  events  and  reinforcements. 

It  was  while  the  second  North  Carolina  regiment  lay  at 
Purysburg,  that  an  adventure  occurred,  which  has  so  often 
been  repeated  in  connection  with  the  name  and  life  of  Ma- 
rion, that  we  should  scarcely  be  excused  from  introducing 
it  here,  as  properly  in  place  in  this  memoir.  Weems 
asserts  that  Marion  was  present  at  this  time  with  his  regi- 
ment at  Purysburg.  It  is  impossible  to  say  whether  he 
was  or  not.  It  is  not  improbable  that  he  was  with  his  regi- 
ment, and  yet  the  weight  of  evidence  inclines  us  to  the 
opinion  that  he  was  still  at  Fort  Moultrie.  It  is  not  un- 
likely, however,  that,  when  the  direction  of  the  British 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


SI 


fleet  was  known,  and  it  vas  ascertained  that  Savannah  and 
not  Charleston  was  its  object,  he  immediately  joined  his 
regiment  at  Purysburg,  leaving  Fort  Moultrie  in  the  charge 
of  some  less  distinguished  officer.  At  all  events  the  point 
is  not  of  importance  to  the  anecdote  we  have  to  relate. 
Personally,  Marion  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It  was  only 
because  the  actors  in  the  adventure  belonged  to  his  regi- 
ment, and  were  of  “Marion’s  men,”  that  tradition  has  insist- 
ed on  associating  his  name  with  theirs.  It  is  not  for  us 
to  have  it  otherwise.  The  reader  is  already  somewhat 
acquainted  with  the  name  of  William  Jasper — perhaps 
Sergeant  Jasper  is  the  better  Known.  This  brave  man 
possessed  remarkable  talents  for  a scout.  He  could  wear 
all  disguises  with  admirable  ease  and  dexterity.  Garden 
styles  him  “a  perfect  Proteus.”*  He  was  equally  re- 
markable for  his  cunning  as  for  his  bravery  ; and  his  noble- 
ness and  generosity  were,  quite  as  much  as  these, the  dis- 
tinguishing traits  of  his  character.  Such  was  the  confi- 
dence in  his  fidelity  and  skill  that  a roving  commission  was 
granted  him,  with  liberty  to  pick  his  associates  from  the 
Brigade.  Of  these  he  seldom  chose  more  than  six.  “ He 
often  went  out,”  says  Moultrie,  “ and  returned  with  priso- 
ners, before  I knew  that  he  was  gone.  I have  known  of 
his  catching  a party  that  was  looking  for  him  He  has 
told  me  that  he  could  have  killed  single  men  several  times, 
but  he  would  not ; he  would  rather  let  them  get  off.  He 
wrent  into  the  British  lines  at  Savannah,  as  a deserter,  com- 
plaining, at  the  same  time,  of  our  ill-usage  of  him  ; he  was 
gladly  received  (they  having  heard  of  his  character)  and 
caressed  by  them.  He  stayed  eight  days,  and  after  inform- 
ing himself  well  of  their  strength,  situation  and  intentions, 

* “ He  was  a perfect  Proteus,  in  ability  to  alter  his  appearance; 
perpetually  entering  the  camp  of  the  enemy,  without  detection, 
and  invariably  returning  to  his  own,  with  soldiers  he  had  sedrced, 
or  prisoners  he  had  captured.” 

# 


4' 


82 


LIFE  OF  MAR.  ON 


he  returned  to  us  again  ; but  that  game  he  could  not  play  a 
second  time.  With  his  little  party  he  was  always  hover- 
ing about  the  enemy’s  camp,  and  was  frequently  bringing 
in  prisoners.”*  We  have  seen  what  reason  was  alleged 
by  this  brave  fellow  for  not  accepting  the  commission  ten- 
dered to  him  by  Governor  Rutledge,  for  his  gallantry  in  the 
battle  of  Fort  Moultrie.  The  nature  of  his  services  was 
no  less  a reason  why  he  should  reject  the  commission. 
The  fact  that  he  seldom  allowed  himself  a command  of 
more  than  six  men  declared  sufficiently  the  degree  of  au- 
thority to  which  he  thought  his  talents  were  entitled. 

It  was  while  in  the  exercise  of  his  roving  privileges  that 
Jasper  prepared  to  visit  the  post  of  the  enemy  at  Ebenezer. 
At  this  post  he  had  a brother,  who  held  the  same  rank  in 
the  British  service,  that  he  held  in  the  American.  This 
instance  was  quite  too  common  in  the  history  of  the  period 
and  country,  to  occasion  much  surprise,  or  cause  any  sus- 
picion of  the  integrity  of  either  party.  We  have  already 
considered  the  causes  for  this  melancholy  difference  of 
individual  sentiment  in  the  country,  and  need  not  dwell 
upon  them  here.  William  Jasper  loved  his  brother  and 
wished  to  see  him  : it  is  very  certain,  at  the  same  time, 
that  he  did  not  deny  himself  the  privilege  of  seeing  all 
around  him.  The  Tory  was  alarmed  at  William’s  appear- 
ance in  the  British  camp,  but  the  other  quieted  his  fears, 
by  representing  himself  as  no  longer  an  American  soldier. 
He  checked  the  joy  which  this  declaration  excited  in  his 
brother’s  mind, by  assuring  him  that,  though  he  found  little 
encouragement  in  fighting  for  his  country,  “ he  had  not  the 
heart  to  fight  against  her.”  Our  scout  lingered  for  two  or 
three  days  in  the  British  camp,  and  then,  by  a detour , re- 
gained that  of  the  Americans ; reporting  to  his  Comman- 
der all  that  he  had  seen.  He  was  encouraged  to  repeat  his 
* Moultrie’s  Mem.,  vol.  ii.,  p.  24. 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


83 


visit  a few  weeks  after,  but  this  time  lie  took  with  im  a 
comrade,  one  Sergeant  Newton,  a fellow  quite  as  brave  in 
spirit,  and  strong  in  body  as  himself.  Here  he  was  aga:n 
well  received  by  his  brother,  who  entertained  the  guests 
kindly  for  several  days.  Meanwhile,  a small  party  of 
Americans  were  brought  into  Ebenezer  as  captives,  over 
whom  hung  the  danger  of  “short  shrift  and  sudden  cord.” 
They  were  on  their  way  to  Savannah  for  trial.  They  had 
taken  arms  with  the  British,  as  hundreds  more  had  done, 
when  the  country  was  deemed  reconquered  ; but,  on  the 
approach  of  the  American  army,  had  rejoined  their  coun- 
trymen, and  were  now  once  more  at  the  mercy  of  the  pow- 
er with  which  they  had  broken  faith.  “ It  will  go  hard 
with  them,”  said  the  Tory  Jasper  to  his  Whig  brother  ; 
but  the  secret  comment  of  the  other  was,  “it  shall  go  hard 
with  me  first.”  There  was  a woman,  the  wife  of  one  of 
the  prisoners,  who,  with  her  child,  kept  them  company. 
William  Jasper  and  his  friend  were  touched  by  the  specta- 
cle of  their  distress  ; and  they  conferred  together,  as  soon 
as  they  were  alone,  as  to  the  possibility  of  rescuing  them. 
Their  plan  was  soon  adopted.  It  was  a simple  one,  such 
as  naturally  suggests  itself  to  a hardy  and  magnanimous 
character.  The  prisoners  had  scarcely  left  the  post  for 
Savannah,  under  a guard  of  eight  men,  a sergeant  and 
corporal,  wdien  Jasper  and  his  friend  departed  also, 
though  in  a different  direction  from  the  guard.  Chang- 
ing their  course  when  secure  from  observation,  they 
stretched  across  the  country  and  followed  the  footsteps 
of  the  unhappy  captives.  But  it  was  only  in  the  pursuit 
that  they  became  truly  conscious  of  the  difficulty,  nay, 
seeming  impossibility,  of  effecting  their  object.  The  guard 
was  armed,  and  ten  in  number ; they  but  two  and  wea- 
ponless. Hopeless,  they  nevertheless  followed  on.  Two 
miles  from  Savannah  there  is  a famous  spring,  the  waters 


84 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


of  which  are  well  known  to  travellers.  The  coi’ecture 
that  the  guard  might  stop  there,  with  the  prisoners,  for 
refreshment,  suggested  itself  to  our  companions  ; here,  op- 
portunities might  occur  for  the  rescue,  which  had  nowhere 
before  presented  themselves.  Taking  an  obscure  path  with 
which  they  were  familiar,  which  led  them  to  the  spot  be- 
fore the  enemy  could  arrive,  they  placed  themselves  in 
ambush  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  spring. 
They  had  not  long  to  wait.  Their  conjecture  proved 
correct.  The  guard  was  halted  on  the  road  opposite  the 
spring.  The  corporal  with  four  men  conducted  the  cap- 
tives to  the  water,  while  the  sergeant,  with  the  remainder 
of  his  force,  having  made  them  ground  their  arms  near  the 
road,  brought  up  the  rear.  The  prisoners  threw  themselves 
upon  the  earth — the  woman  and  her  child,  near  its  father. 
Little  did  any  of  them  dream  that  deliverance  was  at  hand . 
The  child  fell  asleep  in  the  mother’s  lap.  Two  of  the 
armed  men  kept  guard,  but  we  may  suppose  with  little 
caution.  What  had  they  to  apprehend,  within  sight  of  a 
walled  town  in  the  possession  of  their  friends  ? Two  oth- 
ers approached  the  spring,  in  order  to  bring  water  to  the 
prisoners.  Resting  their  muskets  against  a tree  they  pro- 
ceeded to  fill  their  canteens.  At  this  moment  Jasper  gave 
the  signal  to  his  comrade.  In  an  instant  the  muskets  were 
in  their  hands.  In  another,  they  had  shot  down  the  two 
soldiers  upon  duty  ; then  clubbing  their  weapons,  they 
rushed  out  upon  the  astonished  enemy,  and  felling  their 
first  opponents  each  at  a blow,  they  succeeded  in  obtaining 
possession  of  the  loaded  muskets.  This  decided  the  con- 
flict, which  was  over  in  a few  minutes.  The  surviving 
guard  yielded  themselves  to  mercy  before  the  presented 
weapons.  Such  an  achievement  could  only  be  successful 
from  its  audacity  and  the  operation  of  circumstances.  The 
very  proximity  of  Savannah  increased  the  chances  of  sue- 


Jasper  and  Sergeant  Newton  rescuing  the  Prisoners. — Page  84. 


LIFE  CF  MARION.  Sb 

cess.  But  for  this  the  guard  would  have  used  better  pre- 
cautions. None  were  taken.  The  prompt  valor,  the 
bold  decision,  the  cool  calculation  of  the  instant,  were  the 
essential  elements  which  secured  success.  The  work  of 
our  young  heroes  was  not  done  imperfectly.  The  prison- 
ers were,  quickly  released,  the  arms  of  the  captured 
British  put  into  their  hands,  and,  hurrying  away  from  the 
spot  which  they  have  crowned  with  a local  celebrity  not 
soon  to  be  forgotten,  they  crossed  the  Savannah  in  safety 
with  their  friends  and  foes.  This  is  not  the  last  achieve- 
ment of  the  brave  Jasper  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
record.  The  next,  however,  though  not  less  distinguished 
by  success,  was  unhappily  written  in  his  own  blood. 

The  campaign  which  followed  was  distinguished  by  sev- 
eral vicissitudes,  but  the  general  result  was  the  weakening 
and  dispiriting  of  the  American  forces.  Brigadier  General 
Ashe  was  surprised  in  his  camp  and  utterly  defeated,  and 
the  British  army  not  only  penetrated  into  Georgia,  but 
made  its  appearance  at  Beaufort  in  South  Carolina.  Here 
it  was  met  by  Moultrie  in  a spirited  encounter,  which  re- 
sulted in  a drawn  battle.  Meanwhile,  General  Lincoln 
found  the  militia  refractory.  They  refused  to  submit  to  the 
articles  of  war,  and  desired  to  serve  only  under  those  laws 
by  which  the  militia  was  governed.  Chagrined  with  this 
resistance,  Lincoln  transferred  the  militia  to  Moultrie,  and5 
at  the  head  of  about  2000  troops  of  the  regular  service,  he 
marched  up  the  country  to  Augusta,  proposing  by  this 
course  to  circumscribe  the  progress  of  the  enemy  in  that 
quarter.  Taking  advantage  of  this  movement,  by  which 
the  regular  troops  were  withdrawn  from  the  seaboard,  the 
British  General,  Prevost,  immediately  crossed  the  Savannah 
with  the  intention  of  surprising  Moultrie,  who,  with  1200 
militia-men,  lay  at  Black  Swamp.  But  Moultrie,  advised 
af  his  enemy,  retired  to  Coosawhatchie,  where  he  placed 


SO  LIFE  OF  MARION. 

his  rear  guard  ; his  head  quarters  being  pitched  on  the  hill, 
east  of  Tuliffinnee,  two  miles  in  advance,  and  on  the  route 
to  Charleston.  Here  the  rear-guard,  under  Colonel  Lau- 
rens, engaged  the  enemy’s  advance,  and  was  driven  before 
it.  Moultrie  gradually  refired  as  Prevost  advanced,  and 
the  contest  which  followed  between  the  two,  seemed  to  be 
which  should  reach  Charleston  first.  The  defenceless  con- 
dition of  that  city  was  known  to  the  British  General,  whose 
object  was  to  take  it  by  coup  dc  main.  Moultrie  erred  in 
not  making  continued  fight  in  the  swamps  and  strong  pass- 
es, the  thick  forests  and  intricate  defiles,  which  were  nu- 
merous along  the  route  of  the  pursuing  army.  His  policy 
seems  to  have  been  dictated  by  an  undue  estimate  of  the 
value  of  the  city,  and  the  importance  of  its  safety  to  the 
state.  But  for  this,  even  an  army  so  much  inferior  as  his, 
could  have  effectually  checked  the  enemy  long  before  the 
city  could  have  been  reached.  Moultrie  continued  in  ad- 
■\  ance  of  Prevost,  and  reached  Charleston  a few  hours  be- 
fore him  ; just  in  season  to  establish  something  like  order, 
and  put  the  place  in  a tolerable  state  of  defence.  The  fire 
from  the  lines  arrested  the  British  advance.  The  place  was 
summoned,  and  defiance  returned.  Night  followed,  and 
the  next  morning  the  enemy  had  disappeared.  His  object 
had  been  surprise.  He  was  unprepared  for  the  assault, 
having  no  heavy  artillery,  and  his  departure  was  hastened  by- 
intercepted  advices  from  Lincoln  and  Governor  Rutledge, 
which  announced  to  the  garrison  the  approach  of  the  regu- 
lar troops  and  the  country  militia.  Prevost  retired  to  the 
neighboring  islands,  and  established  himself  in  a strong  fort 
at  Stono  ferry.  Here  he  was  attacked  by  General  Lincoln 
in  a spirited  but  unsuccessful  affair,  in  which  the  latter  was 
compelled  to  retreat.  The  attack  of  Lincoln  was  follow-- 
ed  by  one  of  Moultrie,  in  galleys.  The  situation  of  the 
British  became  unpleasant,  and  they  did  not  w-ait  a repeti- 


LIFE  OF  MARI  ON. 


87 


ticn  of  these  assaults,  but  retreated  along  the  chain  of  islai  ds 
on  the  coast,  until  they  reached  Beaufort  and  Savannah. 
Both  of  these  places  they  maintained  ; the  latter  with  their 
main  army,  the  former  with  a strong  body  of  troops,  apart 
from  their  sick,  wounded  and  convalescent.  Here  they 
were  watched  by  General  Lincoln,  in  a camp  of  observa- 
tion at  Sheldon,  until  the  appearance  of  a French  fleet  on  the 
coast  led  to  renewed  activity,  and  hopes,  on  the  part  of  the 
Americans,  which  were  destined  to  bitter  disappointment. 

Marion  was  certainly  with  his  regiment  at  Sheldon,  and 
when  it  became  probable  that  there  was  some  prospect  of 
battle,  we  find  him  at  Fort  Moultrie,  when  Prevost  was 
in  possession  of  the  contiguous  islands.  But  a junction  of 
the  French  and  American  forces,  necessarily  compelling 
the  concentration  of  the  whole  of  the  southern  invading 
army  at  Savannah,  lessened  the  necessity  of  his  remaining 
at  a post  which  stood  in  no  manner  of  danger. 

Early  in  September,  1779,  the  French  admiral,  Count 
D’Estaign,  with  a fleet  of  twenty  sail,  appeared  upon  the 
coast.  As  soon  as  this  was  certainly  known,  General  Lin- 
coln put  his  army  in  motion  for  Savannah.  But  the  French 
forces  had  disembarked  before  his  arrival,  and  the  impa- 
tience and  imprudence  of  their  admiral  did  not  suffer  him 
to  wait  the  coming  of  the  American.  He  was  a rash  man, 
and,  as  it  appears,  on  bad  terms  with  his  subordinate  offi- 
cers, who  were,  indeed,  not  subordinate.*  He  proceeded 
to  summon  the  place.  The  answer  to  his  demand  was,  a 
request  of  twenty-four  hours  for  consideration.  By  a sin- 
gular error  of  judgment  the  French  admiral  granted  the 
time  required.  His  only  hope  had  been  in  a coup  de  main. 
He  had  neither  the  time  nor  the  material  necessary  for 
regular  approaches  ; nor,  had  he  acted  decisively,  do  these 

* Major-General  T.  Pinckney’s  account  of  siege  of  Savannah- 
quoted  by  Garden. 


88 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


seem  to  have  been  at  all  necessary.  The  place  was  not 
tenable  at  the  period  of  his  first  summons.  The  prompt 
energies  of  the  British  commander  soon  made  it  so.  Instead 
of  considering,  he  consumed  the  twenty-four  hours  in 
working;.  The  arrival  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Cr wer,  with  a 

O 0 7 

small  command,  from  Sunbury,  and  the  force  of  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Maitland,  from  Beaufort,  soon  put  the  fortress  in 
such  a condition  of  defence  as- to  enable  its  commander  to 
return  his  defiance  to  the  renewed  summons  of  the  com- 
bined armies.  There  seems  to  have  been  but  one  opinion 
among  the  Americans  as  to  the  mistake  of  D’Estaign,  in 
granting  the  required  indulgence.  Weems,  speaking  for 
General  Horry,  says,  “ I never  beheld  Marion  in  so  great 
a passion.  I was  actually  afraid  he  would  have  broken  out 
on  General  Lincoln.  ‘My  God!’  he  exclaimed,  ‘who 
ever  heard  of  anything  like  this  before  ? First  allow  an 
enemy  to  entrench,  and  then  fight  him  ! See  the  destruc- 
tion brought  upon  the  British  at  Bunker’s  Hill — yet  our 
troops  there  were  only  militia  ; raw,  half-armed  clodhop- 
pers, and  not  a mortar,  or  carronade,  not  even  a swivel — 
only  their  ducking-guns  ! What,  then,  are  we  to  expect 
from  regulars,  completely  armed,  with  a choice  train  of 
artillery,  and  covered  by  a breastwork.’  ” 

The  anticipations  of  Marion  were  fully  realized.  When 
the  junction  of  the  French  and  American  armies  was  ef- 
fected, it  was  determined  to  reduce  the  place  by  siege. 
Batteries  were  to  be  erected,  and  cannon  brought  from  the 
ships,  a distance  of  several  miles.  Meanwhile,  the  works 
of  the  besieged  were  undergoing  daily  improvements,  under 
an  able  engineer.  Several  hundred  negroes  were  busy, 
day  and  night, upon  the  defences,  stimulated,  when  necessary, 
t r exertion, by  the  lash.  On  the  4th  of  October  the  besiegers 
opened  with  nine  mortars  and  thirty-seven  pieces  of  can- 
non from  the  land  side,  and  sixteen  from  the  water.  They 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


89 

continued  to  play  for  several  days,  with  little  e fleet,  and 
the  anxiety  of  the  French  admiral  to  leave  the  coast,  at  a 
season  of  the  year  when  it  is  particularly  perilous  to  ship- 
ping to  remain,  determined  the  besiegers  to  risk  everything 
upon  an  assault.  The  morning  of  the  9th  October  was 
fixed  upon  for  the  attack.  The  American  army  was 
paraded  at  one  o’clock  that  morning,  but  it  was  near  four 
before  the  head  of  the  French  column  reached  the  front. 
“ The  whole  army  then  marched  towards  the  skirt  of  the 
wood  in  one  long  column,  and  as  they  approached  the  open 
space,  was  to  break  off  into  the  different  columns,  as  ordered 
for  the  attack.  But,  by  the  time  the  first  French  column 
had  arrived  at  the  open  spa^e,  the  day  had  fairly  broke; 
when  Count  D’Estaign,  without  waiting  until  the  other 
columns  had  arrived  at  their  position,  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  his  first  column,  and  rushed  forward  to  the  attack.”* 
This  was  creditable  to  his  gallantry,  if  not  to  his  judgment. 
But  it  was  valor  thrown  away.  “ The  column  was  so 
severely  galled  by  the  grape-shot  from  the  batteries,  as 
they  advanced,  and  by  both  grape-shot  and  musketry, 
when  they  reached  the  abbatis,  that,  in  spite  of  the 
efforts  of  the  officers,  it  got  into  confusion,  and  broke  away 
to  their  left,  toward  the  wood  in  that  direction  ; the  second 
and  third  French  columns  shared,  successively,  the  same 
fate,  having  the  additional  discouragement  of  seeing,  as  thev 
marched  to  the  attack,  the  repulse  and  loss  of  their  com- 
rades who  had  preceded  them.  Count  Pulaski,  who,  with 
the  cavalry,  preceded  the  right  column  of  the  Americans 
proceeded  gallantly,  until  stopped  by  the  abbatis ; ana 
before  he  could  force  through  it  received  his  mortal 
wound. The  American  column  was  much  more  suc- 

* Major-General  Thomas  Pinckney,  in  a letter  quoted  by  Gardip. 

t Major-General  Thomas  Pinfitney.  See  Garden. 


so 


LIFE  .IF  MARION. 


cessful.  It  was  headed  by  Colonel  Laurens,  with  the  Light 
Infantry,  followed  by  the  Second  South  Carolina  Regiment, 
of  which  Marion  was  second  in  command,  and  the  first 
battalion  of  Charleston  militia.  This  column  pressed  for- 
ward, in  the  face  of  a heavy  fire,  upon  the  Spring  Hill 
redoubt,  succeeded  in  getting  into  the  ditch,  and  the  colors 
of  the  second  regiment  were  planted  upon  the  berm. 
But  the  parapet  was  too  high  to  be  scaled  under  such  a 
fire  as  proceeded  from  the  walls,  and,  struggling  bravely 
but  vainly,  the  assailants  were,  after  suffering  severe 
slaughter,  driven  out  of  the  ditch.  This  slaughter  was 
increased  in  the  effort  to  retain  and  carry  off  in  safety  the 
colors  of  the  regiment. 

These  colors,  as  we  have  seen,  were  the  gift  of  a lady. 
Moultrie,  in  the  name  of  the  regiment,  had  promised  to  de- 
fend them  to  the  last.  The  promise  was  faithfully  remem- 
bered in  this  moment  of  extremity.  One  of  them  was 
borne  by  Lieutenant  Bush,  supported  by  Sergeant  Jasper  ; 
the  other  by  Lieutenant  Grey,  supported  by  Sergeant  Me’ 
Donald.  Bush  being  slightly  wounded  early  in  the  action 
delivered  his  standard  to  Jasper,  for  better  security.  Jas- 
per a second  time  and  now  fatally  wounded,  restored  it  to 
the  former.  But  at  the  moment  of  taking  it,  Bush  received 
a mortal  wound.  He  fell  into  the  ditch  with  his  ensign 
under  him,  and  it  remained  in  possession  of  the  enemy. 
The  other  standard  was  more  fortunate.  Lieutenant  Grey, 
by  whom  it  was  borne,  was  slain,  but  M’Donald  plucked 
it  from  the  redoubt  where  it  had  been  planted,  the  moment 
the  retreat  was  ordered,  and  succeeded  in  carrying  it  off  in 
safety.  The  repulse  was  decisive.  The  slaughter,  for  so 
brief  an  engagement,  had  been  terrible,  amounting  to  nearly 
eleven  hundred  men  ; 637  French,  and  457  Americans 
Of  the  former,  the  Irish  Brigade,  and  of  the  latter  the  2d 
South  Carolina  Regiment,  particularly  distinguished  them- 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


9] 


selves  and  suffered  most.  The  loss  of  the  British  was 
slight;  the  assailants  made  no  impression  on  their  works 
“ Thus  was  this  fine  body  of  troops  sacrificed  by  the  im 
prudence  of  the  French  General,  who,  being  of  superior 
grade,  commanded  the  whole.*  In  this  battle  Jasper  was 
mortally  wounded.  He  succeeded  in  regaining  the  camp 
of  the  Americans,  The  fatal  wound  was  received  in  his 
endeavor  to  secure  and  save  his  colors.  Another  distin- 
guished personage  who  fell  in  this  fatal  affair,  was  Col. 
Count  Pulaski,  a brave  and  skilful  captain  of  cavalry , bet- 
ter known  in  history  for  his  attempt  upon  the  life  of  Stan 
islaus  Poniatowski,  King  of  Poland. 

* Major  General  T.  Pinckney 


CHAPTER  VII. 


From  the  Battle  of  Savannah  to  the  Defeat  of  Gates  at  Camden. 

The  failure  of  the  combined  forces  of  France  and  Ame- 
rica before  the  walls  of  Savannah,  left  the  cause  of  the 
latter, in  the  South, in  much  worse  condition  than  before. 
The  event  served  to  depress  the  Carolinians,  and  in  the 
same  degree,  to  elevate  and  encourage  the  enemy.  The 
allies  withdrew  to  their  ships,  and,  shortly  after,  from  the 
coast.  General  Lincoln,  with  the  American  army,  retreat- 
ed to  the  heights  of  Ebenezer,  and  thence  to  Sheldon. 
Proceeding  from  this  place  to  Chai’leston,  he  left  Marion 
in  command  of  the  army.  On  the  thirty-first  of  January, 
1780,  he  writes  to  the  latter  as  follows : “ The  state  of 
affairs  is  such  as  to  make  it  necessary  that  we  order  our 
force  to  a point  as  much  and  as  soon  as  possible.  No 
troops  will  be  kept  in  the  field  except  two  hundred  Light 
Infantry  and  the  Horse  (Washington’s).  You  will  there- 
fore please  to  select  from  the  three  regiments  with  you, 
two  hundred  of  your  best  men,  and  those  who  are  best 
clothed,  and  organize  them  into  corps,  with  proper  officers. 
All  the  remainder,  with  the  baggage  of  the  whole  (saving 
such  as  is  absolutely  necessary  for  light  troops),  will  march 
immediately  for  this  town.  You  will  please  take  command 
of  the  light  infantry  until  Lieut.  Col.  Henderson  arrives, 
which  I expect  will  be  in  a few  days.  After  that,  I wish 
to  see  you  as  soon  as  possible  in  Charleston.” 


LIFE  OF  MAR  JON. 


93 


In  the  February  following,  Marion  was  dispatched  to 
Bacon’s  Bridge  on  Ashley  river,  where  Moultrie  had 
established  a camp  for  the  reception  of  the  militia  of  the 
neighborhood,  as  well  as  those  which  had  been  summoned 
from  the  interior.  It  was  to  Marion  that  Lincoln  chiefly 
looked  for  the  proper  drilling  of  the  militia.  In  his  hands 
they  lost  the  rude  and  inefficient  character,  the  inexpert 
and  spiritless  manner,  which,  under  ordinary  commanders 
always  distinguish  them.  Feeling  sure  of  their  Captain, 
he,  in  turn,  rendered  them  confident  of  themselves.  Speak- 
ing of  Marion’s  11  patience  with  the  militia” — a phrase  of 
great  importance  in  this  connection — Horry,  in  his  owd 
memoirs,  which  now  lie  before  us,  adds,  “ No  officer  in 
the  Union  was  better  calculated  to  command  them,  and  tc 
have  done  more  than  he  did.”*  Lincoln  knew  his  value. 
The  admirable  training  of  the  Second  South  Carolina  Regi- 
ment had  already  done  high  honor  to  his  skill  as  a disci- 
plinarian. He  discovered  the  secret  which  regularly  bred 
military  men  are  slow  to  discern,  that,  without  patience,  ir. 
the  training  of  citizen  soldiers  for  immediate  service,  they 
are  incorrigible  ; and  patience  with  them,  on  the  part  of  a 
commanding  officer,  is  neither  inconsistent  with  their  claims 
nor  with  their  proper  efficiency. 

The  accumulation  of  troops  at  Bacon’s  Bridge  was  made 
with  the  view  to  the  defence  of  Charleston,  now  threatened 
by  the  enemy.  Many  concurring  causes  led  to  the  leaguer 
of  that  city.  Its  conquest  was  desirable  on  many  ac- 
counts, and  circumstances  had  already  shown  that  this  was 
not  a matter  of  serious  difficulty.  The  invasion  of  Prevost 
the  year  before,  which  had  so  nearly  proved  successful ; 
the  little  resistance  which  had  been  offered  to  him  while 
traversing  more  than  one  hundred  miles  of  country  contigu- 
ous to  the  Capital ; and  the  rich  spoils  which,  on  his  retreat, 
* MS.  Memoir  of  Get.  Horry,  p.  55. 


94 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


had  been  borne  off  by  his  army,  betrayed  at  once  .he  wealth 
and  weakness  of  that  region.  The  possession  of  Savannah, 
where  British  Government  had  been  regularly  re-establish- 
ed, and  the  entire,  if  not  totally  undisturbed  control  of 
Georgia,  necessarily  facilitated  the  invasion  of  the  sister 
province.  South  Carolina  was  now  a frontier,  equally  ex- 
posed to  the  British  in  Georgia,  and  the  Tories  of  Florida 
and  North  Carolina.  The  means  of  defence  in  her  power 
were  now  far  fewer  than  when  Prevost  made  his  attempt 
on  Charleston.  The  Southern  army  was,  in  fact,  totally 
broken  up.  The  Carolina  regiments  had  seen  hard  service, 
guarding  the  frontier,  and  contending  with  the  British  in 
Georgia.  They  were  thinned  by  battle  and  sickness  to  a 
mere  handful.  The  Virginia  and  North  Carolina  regiment* 
had  melted  away,  as  the  term  for  which  they  had  enlisted, 
had  expired.  The  Georgia  regiment,  captured  by  the 
British  in  detail,  were  perishing  in  their  floating  prisons. 
The  weakness  of  the  patriots  necessarily  increased  the  au- 
dacity, with  the  strength, of  their  enemies.  The  loyalists, 
encouraged  by  the  progress  of  Prevost,  and  the  notorious 
inefliciency  of  the  Whigs,  were  now  gathering  in  formidable 
bodies,  in  various  quarters,  operating  in  desultory  bands,  or 
crowding  to  swell  the  columns  of  the  British  army.  All 
things  concurred  to  encourage  the  attempt  of  the  enemy  cn 
Charleston.  Its  possession,  with  that  of  Savannah,  would 
not  only  enable  them  to  complete  their  ascendancy  in  the 
two  provinces  to  which  these  cities  belonged,  but  would 
probably  give  them  North  Carolina  also.  Virginia  then, 
becoming  the  frontier,  it  would  be  easy,  with  the  co-opera- 
tion of  an  army  ascending  the  Chesapeake,  to  traverse  the 
entire  South  with  their  legions,  detaching  it  wholly  from  the 
federal  compact.  Such  was  the  British  hope,  and  such 
their  policy.  There  was  yet  another  motive  for  the  siege 
of  Charleston,  considered  without  reference  to  collateral  or 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


95 


contingent  events.  Esteemed  erroneously  as  a place  of 
great  security  —an  error  that  arose  in  all  probability  from 
the  simple  fact  of  the  successful  defence  of  FortMoultrie — 
it  was  crowded  with  valuable  magazines.  As  a trading 
city,  particularly  while  the  commerce  of  the  North  remain- 
ed interrupted,  it  had  become  a place  of  great  business. 
It  was  a stronghold  for  privateers  and  their  prizes,  and  al 
ways  contained  stores  and  shipping  of  immense  value. 

The  temptations  to  its  conquest  were  sufficiently  nume 
rous.  Ten  thousand  choice  troops,  with  a large  and  heavy 
train  of  artillery,  were  accordingly  dispatched  from  New 
York  for  its  investment,  which  was  begun  in  February 
17S0,  and  conducted  by  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the 
British  forces,  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  in  person.  He  con- 
ducted his  approaches  with  a caution  highly  complimentary 
to  the  besieged.  The  fortifications  were  only  field  works, 
and  might  have  been  overrun  in  less  than  five  days  by  an 
audacious  enemy.  The  regular  troops  within  the  city 
were  not  above  two  thousand  men.  The  citizen  militia 
increased  the  number  to  nearly  four  thousand.  For  such 
an  extent  of  lines  as  encircled  the  place,  the  adequate  force 
should  not  have  been  less  than  that  of  the  enemy.  The  forti- 
fications, when  the  British  first  landed  their  materiel , were 
in  a dilapidated  and  unfinished  state,  and, at  that  time,  the 
defenders,  apart  from  the  citizens,  scarcely  exceeded  eight 
hundred  men  ; while  the  small  pox,  making  its  appearance 
within  the  walls,  for  the  first  time  for  twenty  years — an 
enemy  much  more  dreaded  than  the  British, — effectually 
discouraged  the  country  militia  from  coming  to  the  as- 
sistance of  the  citizens.  Under  these  circumstances,  the 
conquest  would  have  been  easy  to  an  active  and  energetic 
foe.  But  Sir  Henry  does  not  seem  to  have  been  impatient 
for  his  laurels.  He  was  willing  that  they  should  mature 


66 


I.  I F E OF  MARION. 


gradually,  and  he  sat  down  to  a regular  and  formal  invest 
ment. 

It  was  an  error  of  the  Carolinians,  under  such  circum- 
stances,  to  risk  the  fortunes  of  the  State,  and  the  greater 
part  of  its  regular  military  strength,  in  a besieged  town  ; a 
still  greater  to  do  so  in  defiance  of  such  difficulties  as  at- 
tended the  defence.  The  policy  which  determined  the 
resolution  was  a concession  to  the  citizens,  in  spite  of  all 
military  opinion.  The  city  might  have  been  yielded  to 
the  enemy,  and  the  State  preserved,  or,  which  was  the 
same  thing,  the  troops.  The  loss  of  four  thousand  men  from 
the  ranks  of  active  warfare,  was  the  great  and  substantial 
loss,  the  true  source,  in  fact,  of  most  of  the  miseries  and 
crimes  by  which  the  very  bowels  of  the  country  were  sub- 
sequently torn  and  distracted. 

It  was  the  great  good  fortune  of  the  State  that  Francis 
Marion  was  not  among  those  who  fell  into  captivity  in  the 
fall  of  Charleston.  He  had  marched  into  the  city  from 
Dorchester,  when  his  active  services  were  needed  for  its 
defence ; but  while  the  investment  was  in  progress,  and 
before  it  had  been  fully  completed,  an  event  occurred  to 
him,  an  accident  which  was,  no  doubt,  very  much  deplored 
at  the  time,  by  which  his  services,  lost  for  the  present, 
were  subsequently  secured  for  the  country.  Dining  with 
a party  of  friends  at  a house  in  Tradd-street,  the  host,  with 
that  mistaken  hospitality  which  has  too  frequently  changed 
a virtue  to  a vice,  turned  the  key  upon  his  guests,  to 
prevent  escape,  till  each  individual  should  be  gorged  with 
wine.  Though  an  amiable  man,  Marion  was  a strictly 
temperate  one.  He  was  not  disposed  to  submit  to  this  too 
common  form  of  social  tyranny  ; yet  not  willing  to  resent 
the  breach  of  propriety  by  converting  the  assembly  into  a 
Dull-ring,  he  adopted  a middle  course,  which  displayed 
equally  the  gentleness  and  firmness  of  his  temper.  Opening 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


97 


a window,  he  coolly  threw  himself  into  the  street.  He 
was  unfortunate  in  the  attempt ; the  apartment  was  on  the 
second  story,  the  height  considerable,  and  the  adventure 
cost  him  a broken  ancle.  The  injury  was  a severe  and 
shocking  one,  and,  for  the  time,  totally  unfitted  him  for 
service.  He  left  the  city  in  a litter,  while  the  passage  to 
the  country  still  remained  open  for  retreat,  in  obedience  to 
an  order  of  General  Lincoln  for  the  departure  of  all  idle 
mouths,  “ all  supernumerary  officers,  and  all  officers  unfit 
for  duty.”  Marion  retired  to  his  residence  in  St.  John’s 
parish.  Here,  suffering  in  mind  and  body,  he  awaited  with 
impatience  the  progress  of  events,  with  which,  however 
much  he  might  sympathize,  he  could  not  share.  His 
humiliation  at  this  unavoidable  but  melancholy  inaction, 
may  be  imagined  from  what  we  know  of  his  habits  and  his 
patriotism. 

The  siege  of  Charleston,  in  consequence  of  the  firm  bear 
mg  of  the  besieged,  . and  the  cautious  policy  of  the  British 
Government,  was  protracted  long  after  the  works  had  been 
pronounced  untenable.  It  was  yielded  unwillingly  to  the 
eonqueror,  only  after  all  resistance  had  proved  in  vain.  It 
fell  by  famine,  rather  than  by  the  arms  of  the  enemy.  The 
defence  was  highly  honorable  to  the  besieged.  It  lasted 
six  weeks,  in  which  they  had  displayed  equal  courage  and 
endurance.  The  consequences  of  this  misfortune  leave 
it  somewhat  doubtful,  whether  the  determination  to  defend 
the  city  to  the  last  extremity,  was  not  the  result  of  a 
correct  policy ; considering  less  its  own  loss,  and  that  of 
the  army,  than  the  effect  of  the  former  upon  the  rustic 
population.  Certainly,  the  capture  of  the  army  was  a vital 
misfortune  to  the  southern  States ; yet  the  loss  of  the  city 
itself  was  of  prodigious  effect  upon  the  scattered  settlements 
of  the  country.  The  character  and  resolve  of  the  capital 
cities,  in  those  days,  were  very  much  the  sources  of  the 

5 


93 


LIFE  OF  MASH  W 


moral  strength  of  the  interior.  Sparsely  settled,  with 
unfrequent  opportunities  of  communion  with  one  another, 
the  minds  of  the  forest  population  turned  naturally  for 
their  tone  and  direction  to  the  capital  city.  The  active 
attrition  of  rival  and  conflicting  minds,  gives,  in  all  coun- 
tries, to  the  population  of  a dense  community,  an  intellec- 
tual superiority  over  those  who  live  remote,  and  feel  none 
of  the  constant  moral  strifes  to  which  the  citizen  is  sub- 
ject. In  South  Carolina,  Charleston  had  been  the  seat  of 
the  original  movement,  had  incurred  the  first  dangers, 
achieved  the  first  victories,  and,  in  all  public  proceedings 
where  action  was  desirable,  had  always  led  off  in  the  van 
To  preserve  intact,  and  from  overthrow,  the  seat  of  ancient 
authority  and  opinion,  was  surely  a policy  neither  selfish 
nor  unwise.  Perhaps,  after  all,  the  grand  error  was,  in 
not  making  the  preparations  for  defence  adequate  to  the 
object.  The  resources  of  the  State  were  small,  and  these 
had  been  diminished  wofully  in  succoring  her  neighbors, 
and  in  small  border  strifes,  which  the  borderers  might  have 
been  taught  to  manage  for  themselves.  The  military  foref 
of  the  State,  under  any  circumstances,  could  not  have 
contended  on  equal  terms  with  the  ten  thousand  well- 
appointed  regulars  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton.  The  assistance 
derived  from  Virginia  and  North  Carolina  was  little  more 
than  nominal,  calculated  rather  to  swell  the  triumph  of 
the  victor  than  to  retard  his  successes. 

If  the  movements  of  the  British  were  slow,  and  deficient 
in  military  enterprise,  where  Sir  Henry  Clinton  commanded 
in  person, such  could  not  be  said  of  their.,  after  the  con- 
quest of  Charleston  was  effected.  The  commander-in- 
chief was  succeeded  by  Earl  Cornwallis,  and  his  career 
was  certainly  obnoxious  to  no  such  reproaches.  We  shall 
have  more  serious  charges  to  bring  against  him.  Of  the 
gross  abuse  of  power,  wanton  tyrannies,  cruel  murders,  and 


L I } £ OF  M A K I O N 


J9 

most  reckless  disregard  of  decency  and  right,  oy  which  the 
course  of  the  British  was  subsequently  distinguished,  we 
shall  say  no  more  than  will  suffice  to  show,  in  what  dan- 
gers, through  what  difficulties,  and  under  what  stimulating 
causes, Francis  Marion  rose  in  arms,  when  everything  ap- 
peared to  be  lost. 

Charleston  in  possession  of  the  enemy,  they  proceeded 
with  wonderful  activity  to  use  all  means  in  their  power, 
for  exhausting  the  resources,  and  breaking  down  the  spi- 
rit of  the  country.  Their  maxim  was  that  of  habitual 
tyranny— “ might  is  right.”  They  seemed  to  recognize 
no  other  standard.  The  articles  of  capitulation,  the  laws 
of  nations,  private  treaty,  the  dictates  of  humanity  and 
religion,  were  all  equally  set  at  naught.  The  wealth  of 
private  families, — slaves  by  thousands, — were  hurried  into 
the  waists  of  British  ships,  as  the  legitimate  spoils  of  war. 
The  latter  found  a market  in  the  West  India  islands  ; the 
prisoners  made  by  the  fall  of  Charleston  were,  in  defiance 
of  the  articles  of  capitulation,  crowded  into  prison-ships, 
from  whence  they  were  only  released  by  death,  or  by 
yielding  to  those  arguments  of  their  keepers  which  per- 
suaded them  to  enlist  in  British  regiments,  to  serve  in  other 
countries.  Many  yielded  to  these  arguments,  with  the 
simple  hope  of  escape  from  the  horrors  by  which  they 
were  surrounded.  When  arts  and  arguments  failed  to  over- 
come the  inflexibility  of  these  wretched  prisoners,  com- 
pulsion was  resorted  to,  and  hundreds  w<  re  forced  from 
their  country,  shipped  to  Jamaica,  and  there  made  to  serve 
in  British  regiments.*  Citizens  of  distinction,  who,  by 
their  counsel  or  presence,  opposed  their  influence  over  the 
prisoners,  or  proved  themselves  superior  to  their  tempta- 
tions, were  torn  from  their  homes  without  warning,  and 


* Moultrie’s  Memoirs,  Vol.  ii.,  Corresponae nee. 


100 


LIFE  OF  MARIOM 


incarcerated  in  their  floating  dungeons.  Nothing  was  for- 
borne, in  the  shape  of  pitiless  and  pitiful  persecution,  to 
break  the  spirits,  subdue  the  strength,  and  mock  and  mor- 
tify the  hopes,  alike,  of  citizen  and  captive. 

With  those  who  kept  the  field  the  proceedings  were  more 
summary,  if  not  more  severe. . The  fall  of  Charleston 
seems  necessarily  to  have  involved  the  safety  of  the  country 
from  the  Savannah  to  the  Pedee.  In  a few  weeks  after 
the  capture  of  the  city,  the  British  were  in  peaceable  pos- 
session of  the  space  between  these  limits,  from  the  seaboard 
to  the  mountains.  They  had  few  opponents — an  isolated 
body  of  continentals,  a small  squad  of  militia,  for  the  first 
time  drilling  for  future  service,  or  a little  troop  of  horse — 
and  these  were  quickly  overcome.  On  these  occasions 
the  British  were  generally  led  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Tarle- 
ton.  This  officer  acquired  for  himself  an  odious  distinction 
in  his  progress  through  the  South  in  the  campaigns  which 
followed.  He  was  rather  an  active  than  a skilful  com- 
mander. Rapid  in  his  movements,  he  gave  little  heed  to 
the  judicious  disposition  of  his  troops,  and  aiming  more  at 
impressing  the  fears  of  his  enemy,  than  overcoming  him  by 
science,  his  chief  successes  were  the  result  of  the  panic 
which  his  surprises  and  his  butcheries  inspired.  He  seems 
never  to  have  been  successful  against  an  equal  and  resolute 
foe.  But,  as  courage  and  activity  are,  perhaps,  after  all, 
and  before  all,  the  most  necessary  requisites  for  a soldier, 
Tarleton’s  services  were  inappreciable  to  the  invading  army. 
In  one  month  after  its  arrival,  his  legion  was  mounted  and 
began  its  career  of  slaughter.  While  yet  the  city  was  sus- 
taining the  siege,  he  penetrated  the  country,  in  pursuit  of 
those  bands  of  militia  horse,  which,  by  direction  of  the 
American  commander,  still  kept  the  open  field.  On  the 
18th  of  March,  he  surprised  a company  of  militia  at  Salke- 
hatchie  Bridge  killed  and  wounded  several  and  dispersed 


LIFE  OF  MARION, 


101 


the  rest.  Five  days  after,  another  party  at  Pon-Pon  shared 
the  same  fortune.  He  was  not  so  successful  at  Rantowles 
on  the  23d  of  the  same  month,  where  in  a rencounter  with 
Col.  Washington,  his  dragoons  were  roughly  handled,  and 
retreated  with  loss.  He  avenged  himself,  however,  on 
Washington,  in  less  than  a month  after,  by  surprising  him 
at  Monk’s  Corner.  Col.  White  soon  after  took  command  of 
the  southern  cavalry,  and  obtained  some  trifling  successes, 
but  suffered  himself  to  be  surprised  at  Lenud’s  ferry  on  the 
Santee.  These  events  all  took  place  prior  to  the  surrender 
of  the  city.  The  activity  of  Tarleton,  with  the  general  re- 
missness, and  want  of  ordinary  military  precautions  on  the 
part  of  the  militia  which  opposed  itself  to  him,  made  his  pro- 
gress easy,  and  thus  enabled  him  to  cut  off  every  party  that 
was  embodied  in  the  field.  He  was  now  to  succeed  in  a 
much  more  important  and  much  more  bloody  enterprise. 
A Continental  force  from  Virginia  of  four  hundred  men,  un- 
der Col.  Beaufort,  had  been  dispatched  to  the  relief  of 
Charleston.  Beaufort  had  reached  Camden  before  he  was 
apprised  of  the  surrender  of  that  city.  This  event  properly 
determined  him  to  retreat.  Earl  Cornwallis,  meanwhile, 
had  taken  the  field  with  a force  of  twenty-five  hundred 
men,  and  was  then  in  rapid  progress  for  the  Santee.  Hear- 
ing of  the  advance  of  Beaufort,  he  dispatched  Tarleton  in 
quest  of  him,  with  a select  body  of  infantry  and  cavalry,  in 
all,  seven  hundred  men.  Beaufort  was  overtaken  near  the 
Wexhaw  settlements,  and  summoned  to  surrender.  This 
person  does  not  seem  to  have  been  designed  by  nature  for 
military  operations.  He  halted  at  the  summons,  hesitated 
awhile,  sent  his  wagons  ahead,  consulted  with  his  officers, 
and  did  little  or  nothing  farther,  either  for  flight  or  con- 
flict. While  thus  halting  and  hesitating  he  was  attacked 
by  the  impetuous  Tarleton,  offered  a feeble  resistance,  un- 
marked by  conduct  or  spirit  suffered  the  enemy  to  gain  his 


102 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


rear,  and  finally  grounded  his  arms.  He  either  did  this  too 
soon  or  too  late.  His  flag  was  disregarded  in  the  flush  of 
battle,  the  bearer  of  it  cut  down  by  the  hand  of  Tarleton. 
and  the  British  infantry,  with  fixed  bayonets,  rUshed  upon 
the  inactive  Americans.  Some  of  Beaufort’s  men,  seeing 
that  their  application  for  quarter  was  disregarded,  resolved 
to  die  like  men,  and  resumed  their  arms.  Their  renewed  fire 
provoked  the  massacre  of  the  unresisting.  A terrible  butch- 
ery followed.  The  British  gave  no  quarter.  From  that 
day,  “ Tarleton’s  Quarters,”  implying  the  merciless  cutting 
down  of  the  suppliant,  grew  into  a proverbial  phrase,  which, 
in  the  hour  of  victory,  seemed  to  embitter  the  hostility  with 
which  the  American  strove  to  avenge  his  slaughtered  com- 
rades. 

The  defeat  of  Beaufort,  with  the  only  regular  force  re- 
maining in  the  State,  following  so  close  upon  the  fall  of 
Charleston,  paralyzed  the  hopes  of  the  patriots.  The  coun- 
try seemed  everywhere  subdued.  An  unnatural  and  pain- 
ful apathy  dispirited  opposition.  The  presence  of  a 
British  force,  sufficient  to  overawe  the  neighborhood,  at 
conspicuous  points,  and  the  awakened  activity  of  the  To- 
ries in  all  quarters,  no  longer  restrained  by  the  presence  in 
arms  of  their  more  patriotic  countrymen,  seemed  to  settle 
the  question  of  supremacy.  There  was  not  only  no  head 
against  the  enemy,  but  the  State,  on  a sudden,  appeared  to 
have  been  deprived  of  all  her  distinguished  men.  Moul- 
trie and  others  who  might  have  led,  were  prisoners  of 
war.  Governor  Rutledge,  a noble  spirit  and  famous 
orator— the  Patrick  Henry  of  Carolina, — had  withdrawn  to 
the  North  State,  to  stimulate  the  energies  of  the  people  in 
that  quarter  and  gain  recruits.  His  example  was  followed 
by  Sumter,  Horry  and  others,— by  all,  in  fact,  who,  escap- 
ing captivity,  were  in  condition  to  fly.  The  progress  of 
Cornwallis  and  Tarleton  left  mere  distinction,  unsupported 


LIFE  OF  MAKION. 


lUo 


ay  men,  with  few  places  of  security.  Marion,  meanwhile, 
incapable  of  present  flight,  was  compelled  to  take  refuge 
in  the  swamp  and  forest.  He  was  too  conspicuous  a per 
son,  had  made  too  great  a figure  in  previous  campaigns, 
and  his  military  talents  were  too  well  known  and  too  high- 
ly esteemed,  not  to  render  him  an  object  of  some  anxiety 
as  well  to  friends  as  foes.  Still  suffering  from  the  hurts 
received  in  Charleston,  with  bloody  and  malignant  enemies 
all  around  him,  his  safety  depended  on  his  secrecy  and 
obscurity  alone.  Fortunately  he  had  “ won  golden  opinions 
from  all  sorts  of  people.”  He  had  friends  among  all  class- 
es, who  did  not  permit  themselves  to  sleep  while  he  was 
in  danger.  Their  activity  supplied  the  loss  of  his  own. 
They  watched  while  he  slept.  They  assisted  his  feeble- 
ness. In  the  moment  of  alarm,  he  was  sped  from  house 
to  house,  from  tree  to  thicket,  from  the  thicket  to  the 
swamp.  His  “ hair-breadth  ’scapes”  under  these  frequent 
exigencies,  were,  no  doubt,  among  the  most  interesting 
adventures  of  his  life,  furnishing  rare  material,  could  they 
be  procured,  for  the  poet  and  romancer.  Unhappily,  while 
the  chronicles  show  the  frequent  emergency  which  at- 
tended his  painful  condition,  they  furnish  nothing  more. 
We  are  without  details.  The  melancholy  baldness  and 
coldness  with  which  they  narrate  events  upon  which  one 
would  like  to  linger  is  absolutely  humbling  to  the  imagi- 
nation ; which,  kindled  by  the  simple  historical  outline, 
looks  in  vain  for  the  satisfaction  of  those  doubts  and  inqui- 
ries, those  hopes  and  fears,  which  the  provoking  narrative 
inspires  only  to  defraud.  How  would  some  old  inquisi- 
tive Froissart  have  dragged  by  frequent  inquiry  from  con 
temporaneous  lips,  the  particular  fact,  the  whole  adventure, 
step  by  step,  item  by  item, — the  close  pursuit,  the  narrow 
escape, — and  all  the  long  train  of  little,  but  efficient  cir- 
cumstances, by  which  the  st>ry  would  have  been  made 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


10<± 


unique,  with  all  its  rich  and  numerous  details  ! These, 
the  reader  must  supply  from  his  own  resources  of  imagina- 
tion. He  must  conjecture  for  himself  the  casual  warning 
brought  to  the  silent  thicket,  by  the  devoted  friend,  the 
constant  woman,  or  the  humble  slave  ; the  midnight  bay  of 
the  watch  dog  or  the  whistle  of  the  scout ; or  the  sudden 
shot,  from  friend  or  foe,  by  which  the  fugitive  is  counsel- 
led to  hurry  to  his  den.  A thousand  events  arise  to  the 
imagination  as  likely  to  have  occurred  to  our  partisan,  in 
his  hours  of  feebleness  and  danger,  from  the  rapid  cavalry 
of  Tarleton,  or  the  close  and  keen  pursuit  of  the  revenge- 
ful Tories.  To  what  slight  circumstances  has  he  been  in- 
debted for  his  frequent  escape  ! What  humble  agents  have 
been  commissioned  by  Providence  to  save  a life,  that  was 
destined  to  be  so  precious  to  his  country’s  liberties  ! 

How  long  he  remained  in  this  situation  is  not  exactly 
known, — probably  several  months.  As  soon  as  he  was  able 
to  mount  his  horse,  he  collected  a few  friends,  and  set  out 
for  North  Carolina.  A Continental  force  was  on  its  way 
from  Virginia  under  Baron  De  Kalb.  His  purpose  was  to 
join  it.  It  was  while  on  this  route,  and  with  this  object, 
that  he  encountered  his  old  friend  and  long  tried  associate 
in  arms,  Col.  P.  Horry.* 

Horry  describes  his  ancle,  at  this  meeting,  as  still  “ very 
crazy” — so  much  so  that  it  required  his  help  and  that  of 

* There  were  two  Horrys,  brothers,  both  of  whom  were  very 
brave  and  distinguished  adherents  of  our  partisan.  Peter  Horry 
held  a captain’s  commission  in  the  same  regiment  with  Marion 
at  the  battle  of  Fort  Moultrie.  Hugh  Horry  was  the  particular 
favorite  of  his  General.  A life  of  Marion,  purporting  to  be  in 
part  by  the  former,  but  really  composed  entirely  by  the  Rev.  M. 
L.  Weems,  from  facts  furnished  by  Horry,  is  already  well  known 
to  the  public.  A MS.  life  of  Peter  Horry  is  now  before  me, 
and  has  furnished  me  with  several  illustrations  of  the  war,  during 
this  narrative.  Both  of  these  brothers  served  under  Ma'  ion,  to 
the  close  of  the  war,  with  equal  courage  and  fidelity. 


LIFE  OF  KaRION.  1{K 

Marion’s  servant  to  lift  him  from  his  horse.  But  his  spirits 
were  good.  He  was  still  cheerful,  and  possessed  that  rare 
elasticity  of  character  which  ne^er  loses  its  tone  under  pri- 
vations and  disappointments.  Weems,  'who,  we  are  com- 
pelled to  admit,  very  frequently  exercised  the  privilege  of 
the  ancient  historian,  of  putting  fine  speeches  into  the 
mouth  of  his  hero,  tells  us  that  he  jeered  at  the  doleful 
expressions  of  his  companion,  Horry,  who,  discussing  the 
condition  of  the  country,  lamented  that  their  “ happy  days 
were  all  gone.”  “ Our  happy  days  all  gone,  indeed  !” 
answered  Marion — “ on  the  contrary,  they  are  yet  to  come. 
The  victory  is  still  sure.  The  enemy,  it  is  true,  have  all 
the  trumps,  and  if  they  had  but  the  spirit  to  play  a gene- 
rous game,  they  would  certainly  ruin  us.  But  they  have  no 
idea  of  that  game.  They  will  treat  the  people  cruelly,  and 
that  one  thing  will  ruin  them  and  save  the  country.” 
Weems,  speaking  for  Horry,  describes  in  ludicrous  terms, 
their  journey  through  North  Carolina, — through  a region 
swarming  with  Tories,  but,  fortunately  for  our  travellers, 
who  were  venomous  without  being  active.  Our  fugitives 
were  without  money  and  without  credit,  and  “ but  for  car- 
rying a knife,  or  a horse  fleam,  oi  a gun-flint,  had  no  more 
use  for  a pocket  than  a Higlander  has  for  a knee-buclde. 
As  to  hard  money  we  had  not  seen  a dollar  for  years.”  In 
this  resourceless  condition — a condition,  which,  it  may  be 
well  to  say  in  this  place,  continued  throughout  the  war, 
they  made  their  way  with  difficulty  until  they  joined  the 
Continental  army.  Gates  had  superseded  De  Kalb  in  its 
command,  and  was  pressing  forward, with  the  ambition,  seem- 
mgly,  of  writing  a despatch  like  Caesar’s,  announcing,  in 
the  same  breath,  the  sight  and  conquest  of  his  enemy.  Ma- 
rion and  his  little  troop  of  twenty  men,  made  but  a sorry 
figure  in  the  presence  of  the  Continental  General.  Gates 
was  a man  of  moderate  abilities,  a vain  man,  of  a swelling 
5* 


106 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


and  ostentatious  habit,  whose  judgment  was  very  apt  to  be 
affected  by  parade,  and  the  external  show  of  things.  Some 
of  his  leading  opinions  were  calculated  to  show  that  he  was 
unfit  for  a commander  in  the  South.  For  example,  he 
thought  little  of  cavalry,  which,  in  a plain  country,  sparsely 
settled,  was  among  the  first  essentials  of  success,  as  well 
in  securing  intelligence,  as  in  procuring  supplies.  It  was 
not  calculated  therefore  to  raise  the  troop  of  our  partisan  in 
his  esteem,  to  discover  that  they  were  all  good  riders  and 
well  mounted.  Marion,  himself,  was  a man  equally  mo 
dest  in  approach  and  unimposing  in  person.  His  followers 
may  have  provoked  the  sneer  of  the  General,  as  it  certainly 
moved  the  scorn  and  laughter  of  his  well-equipped  Conti- 
nentals. We  have  a description  of  them  from  the  pen  ot 
an  excellent  officer,  the  Adjutant  General  of  Gates’  army. 
He  says,  u Col.  Marion,  a gentleman  of  South  Carolina,  had 
been  with  the  army  a few  days,  attended  by  a very  few 
followers,  distinguished  by  small  leather  caps,  and  the 
wretchedness  of  their  attire ; their  number  did  not  exceed 
twenty  men  and  boys,  some  white,  some  black,  and  all 
mounted,  but  most  of  them  miserably  equipped  ; their  ap- 
pearance was  in  fact  so  burlesque,  that  it  was  with  much 
difficulty  the  diversion  of  the  regular  soldiery  was  restrained 
by  the  officers  ; and  the  General  himself  was  glad  of  an  op- 
portunity of  detaching  Col.  Marion,  at  his  own  instance,  to- 
wards the  interior  of  South  Carolina,  with  orders  to  watch 
the  motions  of  the  enemy  and  furnish  intelligence.”* 

From  such  small  and  insignificant  beginnings  flow  great- 
ness and  great  performances.  We,  who  are  in  possession 
of  all  the  subsequent  events — who  see  this  proud,  vain 
Commander,  hurrying  on  with  the  rapidity  of  madness  to 
his  own  ruin— can  but  smile  in  the  perusal  of  such  a narra- 

c Narratw;  of  the  Campaign  of  1780,  by  Col.  Otho  Williams. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


107 


tive,  not  at  the  rags  of  Marion’s  men,  but  at  the  undiscern- 
ing character  of  those  who  could  see,  in  the  mean  equip- 
ment, the  imperfect  clothing,  the  mixture  of  man  and  boy, 
and  white  and  black,  anything  but  a noble  patriotism, 
which,  in  such  condition,  was  still  content  to  carry  on  a 
wai  against  a powerful  enemy.  The  very  rags  and  pov- 
erty of  this  little  band,  which  was  afterwards  to  become  so 
famous,  were  so  many  proofs  of  their  integrity  and  virtue, 
and  should  have  inspired  respect  rather  than  ridicule.  They 
were  so  many  guarantees  of  good  service  which  they  were 
able  and  prepared  to  render.  It  was  in  defiance  of  the  temp- 
tations and  the  power  of  the  foe,  that  these  men  had  taken  the 
field  against  him,  and  had  Gates  been  a wise  commander,  he 
would  have  seen  even  through  their  rags  and  destitution, 
the  small  but  steady  light  of  patriotism  ; which,  enkindled 
throughout  the  State  by  the  example  of  Marion,  Sumter, 
and  a few  others,  was  to  blaze  out  finally  into  that  perfect 
brightness  before  which  the  invader  was  to  shrink  con- 
founded. 

• Gates  was  wise  enough  to  take  counsel  of  Marion,  if 
nothing  more  ; and  even  this  might  not  have  been  done,  but 
for  the  suggestions  of  Governor  Rutledge,  who,  at  that 
time  in  the  camp  of  the  Continentals,  might  very  well  have 
informed  him  of  the  value  of  the  man  whose  followers  in- 
spired only  ridicule.  It  was  with  Marion  that  the  plan 
was  concerted,  and  not  improbably  at  his  suggestion,  for 
moving  into  the  very  heart  of  the  State.  This,  subsequent- 
ly, was  the  policy  of  Greene,  and  had  Gates  adopted  the 
deliberate  caution  of  that  commander,  his  successes  would 
unquestionably  have  been  the  same.  The  object  of  such 
a movement  was  to  give  an  opportunity  to  the  native 
patriots  to  rally — to  compel  the  British  to  concentrate  their 
scattered  forces,  call  in  their  detached  parties,  and  thus 
circumscribe  their  influence,  within  the  State,  to  the  places 


108 


I.IFE  OF  MARION 


where  they  still  remained  in  force.  To  effect  these  ob- 
jects, the  Fabian  maxims  of  warfare  should  have  been 
those  of  the  American  General.  Few  of  his  militia  had 
ever  seen  an  enemy.  He  had  but  recently  joined  his  troops, 
knew  nothing  of  them,  and  they  as  little  of  him.  Their 
march  had  been  a fatiguing  one.  Time  and  training  were 
necessary  pre-requisites  for  their  improvement  and  his 
success.  Unhappily,  these  were  the  very  agents  with 
which  the  vanity  of  the  unfortunate  commander  made  him 
most  willing  to  dispense.  The  victory  at  Saratoga  had 
spoiled  him  for  ever,  and  thinking  too  much  of  himself,  he 
committed  the  next  great  error  of  a soldier,  that  of  think- 
ing too  lightly  of  his  foe.  It  would  be  idle  and  perhaps 
impertinent,  to  suggest  that  if  Marion  had  been  suffered  to 
remain  with  him,  the  issue  of  this  march  might  have  been 
more  fortunate.  Gates  was  quite  too  vain-glorious  to 
listen  and  Marion  quite  too  moderate  to  obtrude  his  opi- 
nions ; and  yet  Marion  was  a man  of  equal  prudence  and 
adroitness.  He  could  insinuate  advice,  so  that  it  would 
appear  to  self-conceit  the  very  creature  of  its  own  concep- 
tions. Had  Marion  remained,  could  Gates  have  listened, 
we  are  very  sure  there  would  have  been  no  such  final,  fa- 
tal disaster  as  suddenly  stopped  the  misdirected  progress, 
of  the  Continental  army.  There  would  have  been  some 
redeeming  circumstances  to  qualify  the  catastrophe.  All 
would  not  have  been  lost.  At  all  events,  with  Marion  at 
their  head,  the  militia  would  have  fought  awhile, — would 
have  discharged  their  pieces,  once,  twice,  thrice,  before 
they  fled.  They  would  have  done  for  the  bom-leader  of 
militia,  what  they  refused  to  do  for  a commander  who 
neither  knew  how  to  esteem,  nor  how  to  conduct  them. 

It  was  while  Marion  was  in  the  camp  of  Gates,  that  a 
messenger  from  the  Whigs  of  Williamsburg,  then  newly 
risen  in  arms,  summoned  him  to  be  their  leader.  It  was  in 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


10S 


consequence  of  this  invitation,  and  not  because  of  the  awk- 
wardness of  his  position  there,  that  he  determined  to  pene- 
trate into  South  Carolina,  in  advance  of  the  American  army. 
Such  an  invitation  was  not  to  be  neglected.  Marion  well 
knew  its  importance,  and  at  once  accepted  the  commission 
conferred  upon  him  by  Governor  Rutledge.  He  took  leave 
of  Gates  accordingly,  having  received,  as  is  reported,  cer- 
tain instructions  from  that  unhappy  commander,  to  employ 
his  men  in  the  destruction  of  all  the  scows,  boats,  ferry-flats 
and  barges  on  the  route,  by  which  the  enemy  might  make 
his  escape.  The  fancy  of  the  American  General  already 
beheld  the  army  of  Lord  Cornwallis  in  full  flight.  His 
great  solicitude  seems  to  have  been  how  to  secure  his  cap- 
tives. He  had,  strangely  enough  for  a military  man,  never 
taken  counsel  of  the  farm-yard  proverb,  which  we  need  not 
here  repeat  for  the  benefit  of  the  reader.  With  the  depart- 
ure of  Marion,  his  better  genius  left  him, — the  only  man, 
who,  in  command  of  the  militia,  might  have  saved  him  from 
destruction.  Leaving  our  partisan,  with  his  little  squad,  to 
make  his  way  cautiously  through  a country  infested  with 
Tories,  we  follow  for  the  present  the  progress  of  the  Conti- 
nental army.  On  the  night  of  the  fifteenth  of  August,  1 780, 
the  Americans  moved  from  Rugely’s  Mills.  At  midnight, 
without  dreaming  of  an  enemy,  they  encountered  him. 
The  first  intelligence  communicated  to  either  army  of  the 
presence  of  the  other,  was  from  the  fire  of  the  British  ad- 
vance upon  the  Americans.  The  two  armies  recoiled  and 
lay  upon  their  arms  the  rest  of  the  night.  So  far  the  affair 
was  indecisive.  The  Americans  had  sustained  themselves 
in  the  face  of  some  disadvantages,  chiefly  the  result  of  their 
leader’s  imprudence.  A night  march  of  raw  militia  in  the 
face  of  a foe,  and  in  column  of  battle,  was  itself  an  error 
which  a sagacious  commander  would  never  have  made. 
It  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  the  Americans  were  not  satis 


110 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


fled  with  their  situation.  Some  of  their  officers  openly  de- 
clared their  discontent.  But  it  was  too  late  for  a retro- 
grade movement,  nor  is  it  likely,  feeling  as  he  did  and  san- 
guine as  he  was,  that  Gates  would  have  believed  any  such 
movement  necessary.  The  ground  was  equally  unknown 
to  both  commanders  ; but  Cornwallis  had  one  advantage  : 
he  was  in  the  command  of  veterans,  who  are  generally  cool 
enough  in  such  situations  to  look  about  them,  and  make  the 
most  of  their  exigencies.  The  American  line  was  soon 
formed  and  in  waiting  for  the  dawn  and  the  enemy.  The 
first  Maryland  division,  including  the  Delawares  under  De 
Kalb,  was  posted  on  the  right ; the  Virginia  militia  under 
Stevens  on  the  left ; the  North  Carolinians,  led  by  Caswell 
in  the  centre  ; and  the  artillery,  in  battery,  upon  the  road. 
Both  wings  rested  on  morasses,  and  the  second  Maryland 
brigade  was  posted  as  a reserve,  a few  hundred  yards  in 
the  rear  of  the  first.  The  British  formed  a single  line,  with 
each  wing  covered  and  supported  by  a body  in  reserve. 
They  were  much  less  numerous  than  the  Americans,  but 
they  were  picked  men,  the  choice  of  the  regiments  in 
Charleston  and  Camden.  The  American  militia,  of  which 
the  greater  part  of  Gates’  army  consisted,  had  never  felt  an 
enemy’s  fire.  The  Maryland  and  Delaware  troops  were 
good  soldiers,  well  trained  and  in  confidence  of  their  lead- 
ers. With  the  break  of  day,  and  the  advance  of  the  Ameri- 
can left,  the  action  began.  This  division  of  the  army  con- 
sisted of  Virginia  militia  under  Stevens.  Handled  with  un- 
expected severity  by  the  British  fire,  they  yielded  before 
it  and  fled  in  panic,  many  of  them  without  even  discharg- 
ing their  pieces.  The  wretched  example  was  followed  by 
the  North  Carolina  militia,  with  the  exception  of  a single 
corps,  commanded  by  Major  Dixon.  The  cavalry  under 
Armand,  a foreign  adventurer,  broke  at  nearly  the  same  mo 
ment ; and  a charge  of  the  British  cavalry,  happily  timed,  put 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


Ill 


sb  fflJ  to  ail  hope  of  rallying  the  terror-stricken  fugitives. 
The  devoted  Continentals  alone  kept  their  ground  and  bore 
the  brunt  of  the  action.  They  were  led  by  the  veteran 
De  Kalb — the  Commander  in  Chief  having  hurried  from  the 
field  in  a vain  attempt  to  bring  the  militia  back.  The  ar- 
tillery was  lost,  the  cavalry  dispersed  ; — the  regulars,  num- 
bering but  nine  hundred  men,  were  required  to  bear  the 
undivided  pressure  of  two  thousand  of  the  best  troops  in 
the  British  service.  With  the  example  before  them,  the 
desertion  of  their  General,  and  their  own  perfect  isola- 
tion, they  would  have  been  justified  by  the  necessity  of 
the  case,  in  instant  flight.  But, as  if  the  cowardice  of  their 
countrymen  had  stung  them  into  a determination  to  show, 
at  all  hazards,  that  they,  at  least  were  made  of  very  dif- 
ferent stuff,  they  not  only  resisted  the  attack  of  the  enemy, 
but  carried  the  bayonet  into  his  ranks.  The  combatants 
rushed  and  reeled  together  with  locked  weapons.  But  this 
struggle  could  not  last.  The  conflict  was  prolonged  only 
until  the  British  cavalry  could  return  from  pursuing  the  fu- 
gitives. Their  sabres  gave  the  finishing  stroke  to  the  affair. 
De  Kalb  had  fallen  under  eleven  wounds,  and  nothing  re- 
mained, but  flight,  to  save  this  gallant  body  from  the  morti- 
fication of  surrender  on  the  field  of  battle.  It  was  no  con- 
solation to  Gates,  while  fleeing  to  North  Carolina,  to  be 
overtaken  by  messengers  from  Sumter,  announcing  a gal- 
lant achievement  of  that  brave  partisan,  by  which  forty- 
wagons  of  booty  and  nearly  three  hundred  prisoners  had 
fallen  into  his  hands.  Such  tidings  only  mocked  his  own 
disaster.  He  could  only,  in  reply,  relate  his  own  irretriev- 
able defeat,  point  to  his  fugitives,  and  counsel  Sumter  to 
immediate  retreat  from  his  triumphant  and  now  returning 
enemy.  Unhappily,  ignorant  of  Gates’  disaster,  and  of  a 
hold,  incautious  temper,  Sumter  was  approaching,  rathe, 
than  hastening  from,  danger  His  flight,  when  he  did  re 


112 


LIFE  OF  M At  I ON  . 


tire,  was  not  sufficiently  rapid,  nor  sufficiently  prudent. 
He  was  one  of  those  men  who  too  quickly  feel  themselves 
secure.  He  was  surprised  by  Tarleton,  but  two  days  after, 
his  troops  utterly  dispersed,  he,  too, a fugitive  like  Gates, 
with  all  the  fruits  of  his  late  victory  taken  from  his  grasp. 
In  almost  every  instance  where  the  Americans  suffered  de- 
feat, the  misfortune  was  due  to  a want  of  proper  caution — 
an  unobservance  of  some  of  the  simplest  rules  of  military 
prudence.  In  a brilliant  sortie,  a manful  charge,  a sudden 
onslaught,  no  troops  could  have  surpassed  them — nay,  we 
find  as  many  examples  of  the  sternest  powers  of  human  en- 
durance, under  the  severest  trials  of  firmness,  in  their  mili 
tary  history,  as  in  that  of  any  other  people.  But  to  secure 
what  they  had  won — to  be  consistently  firm — always  on 
their  guard  and  beyond  surprise, — were  lessons  which  they 
were  slow  to  acquire — which  they  learned  at  last  only  un- 
der the  heaviest  penalties  of  blood.  Marion  was  one  of  the 
few  Captains  of  American  militia,  who  never  suffered  him 
self  to  be  taken  napping 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Organization  of  “ Marion’s  Brigade.”  Surprise  of  Tones  under 

Gainey — Defeat  of  Barfield — Capture  of  British  Guard  with 

Prisoners  at  Nelson’s  Ferry. 

The  people  of  Williamsburg, by  whom  Marion  was  sum- 
moned from  the  camp  of  Gates,  were  sprung  generally  from 
Irish  parentage.  They  inherited,  in  common  with  all  the 
descendants  of  the  Irish  in  America,  a hearty  detestation 
of  the  English  name  and  authority.  This  feeling  rendered 
them  excellent  patriots  and  daring  soldiers,  wherever  the 
British  Lion  was  the  object  of  hostility.  Those  of  whom 
we  are  now  to  speak,  the  people  of  Williamsburg,  were 
men  generally  of  fearless  courage,  powerful  frame,  well- 
strung  nerves,  and  an  audacious  gallantry  that  led  them  to 
delight  in  dangers,  even  where  the  immediate  objects  by 
no  means  justified  the  risk.  They  felt  that  “ rapture  of 
the  strife,”  in  which  the  Goth  exulted.  In  addition  to 
these  natural  endowments  for  a brave  soldiery,  they  were 
good  riders  and  famous  marksmen — hunters,  that  knew 
the  woods  almost  as  well  by  night  as  by  day — could  wind 
.about  and  through  the  camp  of  an  enemy,  as  free  from 
suspicion  as  the  velvet-footed  squirrel,  who,  from  the  lateral 
branches  of  the  pine,  looks  over  their  encampment.  They 
possessed  resources  of  knowledge  and  ingenuity,  while  in 
swamp  and  thicket,  not  merely  to  avoid  the  danger,  but, in 
not  u infrequent  instances,  to  convert  it  to  their  own  advan- 


114 


L'FE  OF  MARION. 


tage.  Nothing  but  the  training  and  directioL  of  such  a 
mind  as  Marion’s  was  needed  to  make,  of  these  men,  the 
most  efficient  of  all  partisan  soldiery.  The  formation  of 
the  brigade  of  which  he  now  prepared  to  take  command, 
has  a history  of  its  own  which  is  worth  telling.  The  fame 
which  it  subsequently  acquired  in  connection  with  its 
leader’s  name,  and  which  the  local  traditions  will  not  will- 
ingly let  die,  will  justify  us  in  the  narration.  Some  few 
preliminary  facts  are  necessary. 

The  fall  of  Charleston,  and  the  dispersion  or  butchery  of 
those  parties  which  had  kept  the  field  after  that  event, 
necessarily  depressed  the  spirits  and  discouraged  the  at- 
tempt of  the  scattered  patriots  who  still  yearned  to  oppose 
the  invaders.  The  captivity  of  many  of  the  leaders  to 
whom  they  were  accustomed  to  look  for  counsel  and  di- 
rection and  the  flight  of  others,  served  still  further  to 
dissipate  any  hopes  or  purposes  which  they  might  have  had 
of  concentration.  Thousands  fled  to  the  North,  and  embo- 
died themselves  under  Washington  and  other  American 
Generals,  despairing  of  the  cause  at  home.  Everything 
appeared  to  be  lost,  and  a timely  proclamation  of  Sir  Henry 
Clinton,  a few  days  after  the  surrender  of  Charleston, 
tended  yet  more  to  subdue  the  spirit  of  resistance.  The 
proclamation  proffered  “ pardon  to  the  inhabitants”  with 
some  few  exceptions,  “ for  their  past  treasonable  offences, 
and  a reinstatement  in  their  rights  and  immunities  hereto- 
fore enjoyed,  exempt  from  taxation,  except  by  their  own 
legislature.”  This  specious  offer,  made  at  a moment 
when  his  power  was  at  its  height,  everywhere  unquestion-*1 
ed  and  unopposed,  indicated  a degree  of  magnanimity, 
which  in  the  case  of  those  thousands  in  every  such  contest, 
who  love  repose  better  than  virtue,  was  everywhere  cal- 
culated to  disarm  the  inhabitants.  To  many  indeed  it  seem- 
ed to  7 imist:  all  for  which  they  had  been  contending.  It 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


115 


offered  security  from  further  injury,  protection  against  the 
Tories  who  were  using  the  authority  of  the  British  for  their 
own  purposes  of  plunder  and  revenge,  a respite  from  their 
calamities,  and  a restoration  of  all  their  rights.  With 
the  immunities  thus  proffered,  with  the  further  conviction 
that  further  struggle  against  British  power  was  hopeless, 
with  the  assurance,  indeed,  which  was  industriously  con- 
veyed to  them  from  ail  quarters,  that  Congress,  not  able 
to  assist,  had  resolved  upon  yielding  the  provinces  of  South 
Carolina  and  Georgia  to  the  enemy,  as  considerations  for 
the  independence  of  the  other  colonies — they  accepted  the 
terms  thus  offered  them  by  the  British  commander,  and,  in 
great  numbers,  signed  declarations  of  allegiance,  received 
protection  as  subjects  of  the  crown,  or,  as  prisoners  of  war, 
were  paroled  to  their  plantations.  Could  the  British  have 
persevered  in  this  policy,  had  they  kept  faith  with  the  inha- 
bitants, they  might  much  longer  have  held  possession  of  the 
country.  But,  either  they  were  not  sincere  in  their  first 
professions,  or  their  subsequent  necessities  compelled  them 
to  adopt  a less  rational  policy.  Twenty  days  had  not  elapsed 
from  the  publication  of  the  first  proclamation  when  it  was 
followed  by  another,  which  so  entirely  qualified  and  impaired 
the  character  of  the  former,  as  to  revolt  the  people  whom  it 
had  invited,  and  to  impress  them  with  the  conviction  that 
they  had  been  imposed  upon — that  the  first  measure  was 
a mere  decoy, — a trap  involving  their  pledges,  yet  with- 
holding the  very  securities  for  which  they  had  been  given. 
This  second  proclamation,  premising  that  it  was  necessary 
for  all  good  citizens  to  uphold  his  Majesty’s  Government, 
proceeded  to  discharge  from  protection  and  parole  all 
persons  to  whom  such  papers  had  been  accorded.  All 
persons  not  absolutely  prisoners  of  war,  taken  in  arms,  were 
to  be  reinstated  in  their  former  positions  as  citizens — but, 
as  citizens  of  the  British  Empire  In  this  relation  the  far 


H6 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


ther  inferences  were  inevitable.  They  were  now  actually 
to  support  his  Majesty’s  Government.  The  proclamation 
ended  with  the  usual  penalties-all  who  neglected  to  return 
to  their  allegiance  were  to  be  treated  as  rebels. 

The  policy  thus  adopted  by  the  British  commander  soon 
made  them  so.  The  object  of  the  Carolinians,  in  taking 
protections  and  paroles,  was  to  avoid  further  warfare.  The 
second  proclamation  of  the  British  General  required  them 
to  take  up  arms  for  his  Majesty,  and  against  their  country- 
men. This  was  a hopeful  plan  by  which  to  fill  the  British 
regiments,  to  save  farther  importations  of  Hessians,  farther 
cost  of  mercenaries,  and, as  in  the  case  of  the  Aborigines,  t<r 
employ  the  Anglo-American  race  against  one  another. 
The  loyalists  of  the  South  were  to  be  used  against  the 
patriots  of  the  North,  as  the  loyalists  of  the  latter  region 
had  been  employed  to  put  down  the  liberties  of  the  former. 
It  was  a short  and  ingenious  process  for  finishing  the  re- 
bellion; and,  could  it  have  entirely  succeeded,  as  in  part 
it  did,  it  would  have  entitled  Sir  Henry  Clinton  to  very  far 
superior  laurels,  as  a civilian,  to  those  he  won  as  a soldier. 
The  value  of  the  Americans,  as  soldiers,  was  very  well 
known  to  the  British  General.  Some  of  the  most  sangui- 
nary battles  of  the  Revolution  were  those  in  which  the 
combatants  on  both  sides  were  chiefly  natives  of  the  soil, 
upon  which  a portion  of  them  but  too  freely  shed  their 
blood  in  a sincere  desire  to  bolster  up  that  foreign  tyranny 
that  mocked  the  generous  valor  which  it  employed. 

The  effect  of  this  second  proclamation  of  the  British 
commander  was  such  as  he  scarcely  anticipated.  The 
readiness  with  which  numbers  of  the  people  had  accepted 
paroles  and  protections,  declared,  at  most,  nothing  but  their 
indifference  to  the  contest — declared  no  preference  foi 
British  domination.  In  this  lay  the  error  of  the  conqueror 
The  natural  feeling  of  the  people,  thus  entrapped,  war 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


137 


that  of  indignation.  Their  determination  might  have  been 
conjectured  by  any  reasoning  mind.  Compelled  to  take 
up  arms — not  permitted  to  enjoy  that  repose  with  their 
families,  for  which  they  sought  the  offered  immunities  of 
the  British — it  was  more  easy  to  espouse  the  cause  of  their 
countrymen,  to  which  their  affections  were  really  given, 
than  that  o;  the  invader.  They  had  committed  a great  and 
humbling  error  in  the  endeavor  to  escape  the  conflict — in 
taking  the  proffered  protection  of  a power  which  had  seiz- 
ed with  violence  upon  their  native  land.  It  was  with  some 
eagerness,  therefore,  that  they  threw  aside  its  obligations, 
and,  as  opportunity  presented  itself,  girded  on  their  armor, 
and  sallied  forth  to  join  their  countrymen.  Among  the  first 
to  do  so  were  the  men  by  whom  Marion  was  summoned  from 
the  camp  of  Gates.  These  brave  fellows,  occupying  a por- 
tion of  the  country  stretching  from  the  Santee  to  the  Pe- 
dee,  including  the  whole  of  the  present  district  of  Williams- 
burg, and  a part  of  Marion,  were  not  altogether  prepared 
to  understand  these  British  proclamations.  They  were 
no  great  politicians,  had  no  love  of  blind  vassalage,  and 
naturally  suspected  all  liberality  of  British  origin.  They 
wished  for  certain  explanations  before  they  sent  in  their 
adhesion.  Not  that  they  calculated  upon  resistance.  This, 
no  doubt,  seemed  to  them  as  hopeless  as  it  appeared  in  all 
other  parts  of  the  State.  But  their  insulated  position, 
which  left  them  uninformed  asvto  the  true  condition  of 
things,  was,  at  the  same  time, a source  of  their  courage  and 
indifference.  As  yet,  the  arms  of  the  British  had  not 
penetrated  into  their  settlements.  They  were  naturally 
anxious  to  prevent  their  doing  so.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, they  held  a gathering  of  their  best  men  for  the 
purpose  of  consulting  upon  their  affairs.  The  twin  pro- 
clamations— how  unlike  ! — of  the  British  commander,  were 
before  them  : and,  in  their  primitive  assembly,  they  sal 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


118 

down  to  discuss  their  separate  merits.  These  confused 
rather  than  enlightened  them,  and  it  was  resolved  to  send 
one  of  their  number,  in  whom  they  had  most  confidence, 
to  the  nearest  British  authority,  in  order  that  their  difficul- 
ties should  be  explained  and  their  doubts  satisfied.  There 
was  one  sterling  family  among  them  of  the  name  of  James. 
Of  this  family  there  were  five  brothers,  John,  William, 
Gavin,  Robert  and  James.  No  men  under  Marion  were 
braver  or  truer  than  these.  Fearless,  strong  and  active, 
they  were  always  ready  for  the  foe  ; the  first  in  attack,  the 
last  in  retreat.  There  were  other  branches  of  this  family 
who  partook  largely  of  the  qualities  of  the  five  brothers.  Of 
these, the  eldest,  Major  John  James,  was  chosen  the  represen- 
tative of  the  men  of  Williamsburg.  This  gentleman  had  been 
their  representative  in  the  provincial  assembly — he  was  in 
command  of  them  as  State  militia.  They  gave  him  their 
fullest  confidence,  and  he  deserved  it. 

Under  this  appointment,  Major  James  repaired  to  George- 
town, the  nearest  British  post,  which  was  then  under  the 
command  of  one  Captain  Ardesoif.  Attired  as  a plain 
backwoodsman,  James  obtained  an  interview  with  Arde- 
soif, and,  in  prompt  and  plain  terms,  entered  at  once  upon 
the  business  for  which  he  came.  But  when  he  demanded 
the  meaning  of  the  British  protection,  and  asked  upon  what 
terms  the  submission  of  the  citizens  was  to  be  made,  he 
was  peremptorily  informed  that  “ the  submission  must  be 
unconditional.”  To  an  inquiry,  whether  the  inhabitants 
were  to  be  allowed  to  remain  upon  their  plantations,  he 
was  answered  in  the  negative.  ££  His  Majesty,”  said  Arde 
soif,  ££  offers  you  a free  pardon,  of  which  you  are  undeserv- 
ing, for  you  all  ought  to  be  hanged ; but  it  is  only  on  con- 
dition that  you  take  up  arms  in  his  cause  ” James,  whom 
we  may  suppose  to  have  been  very  far  from  relishing  the 
tone  and  language  in  which  he  was  addressed,  very  coollj 


I,  IFE  OF  MARIOS. 


J 19 


replied,  that  “ the  people  whom  he  came  to  ref  resent, 
would  scarcely  submit  on  such  conditions.”  The  repub- 
lican language  of  the  worthy  Major  provoked  the  represen- 
tative of  Royalty.  The  word  ‘ represent,’  in  particular, 
smote  hardly  on  his  ears  ; something,  too,  in  the  cool,  con- 
temptuous manner  of  the  Major,  may  have  contributed  to 
his  vexation.  “ Represent  /”  he  exclaimed  in  a fury — 

“ You  d d rebel,  if  you  dare  speak  in  such  language, 

I will  have  you  hung  up  at  the  yard-arm  !”  Ardesoif,  it 
must  be  known,  was  a sea  captain.  The  ship  which  he 
commanded  lay  in  the  neighboring  river.  He  used  only 
an  habitual  form  of  speech  when  he  threatened  the  “ yard- 
arm,” instead  of  the  tree.  Major  James  gave  him  no  time 
to  make  the  correction.  He  was  entirely  weaponless,  and 
Ardesoif  wore  a sword  ; but  the  inequality,  in  the  mo- 
ment of  his  anger,  was  unfelt  by  the  high-spirited  citizen. 
Suddenly  rising,  he  seized  upon  the  chair  on  which  he 
had  been  sitting,  and  floored  the  insolent  subordinate  at  a 
blow ; then  hurrying  forth  without  giving  his  enemy  time 
to  recover,  he  mounted  his  horse,  and  made  his  escape  to 
the  woods  before  pursuit  could  be  attempted. 

His  people  were  soon  assembled  to  hear  his  story.  The 
exactions  of  the  British,  and  the  spirit  which  James  had 
displayed,  in  resenting  the  insolence  of  Ardesoif,  at  once 
aroused  their  own.  Required  to  take  the  field,  it  did  not 
need  a moment  to  decide  “ under  which  king.”  The  result 
of  their  deliberations  was  the  formation  of  “ Marion’s 
Brigade.”  Four  captains  were  chosen  for  as  many  com- 
panies. These  were,  Captains  William  M‘Cottry,  Henry 
Mouzon,  John  James  (of  the  Lake,  a cousin  of  Major 
James),  and  John  M‘Cauley.  These  were  all  under  the 
one  command  of  our  representative  to  Ardesoif.  He 
instantly  put  them  into  motion,  and,  after  some  petty  suc- 
cesses against  small  parties  of  British  and  Tories,  he  ad- 


120 


LliE  ( 1'  MARION. 


vanced  one  of  the  four  companies,  M‘Cottry’s,  to  the  pass 
of  Lynch’s  Creek,  at  Witherspoon’s  Ferry.  Here 
M‘Cottry  heard  of  Col.  Tarleton,  and  proceeded  to  en- 
counter him.  Tarleton  had  been  apprised  of  the  gatherings 
at  Williamsburg,  and,  at  the  head  of  some  seventy  men, 
was  pressing  forward  with  the  hope  of  surprising  James. 
M‘Cottry,  more  brave  perhaps  than  prudent,  after  sending 
back  to  James  for  a reinforcement,  set  forward  to  give 
Tarleton  battle.  The  British  Colonel  had  taken  post  at 
Kingstree.  M‘Cottry  approached  him  at  midnight.  It 
happened,  perhaps  fortunately  for  the  former,  that  Tarleton 
had  received  some  very  exaggerated  accounts  of  M‘Cottry’s 
force,  which  the  boldness  of  his  approach  seemed  to  con- 
firm. Taking  the  alarm  accordingly,  he  disappeared  in 
season,  leaving  to  M‘Cottry  the  eclat  which  necessarily 
attended  his  attempt.  The  excesses  of  Tarleton,  while  on 
this  progress,  and  the  crimes  committed  in  the  same  neigh- 
borhood by  other  British  captains  about  the  same  time, 
completed  the  movement  which  the  native  spirit  of  patriot- 
ism in  the  men  of  Williamsburg  had  so  happily  begun. 
The  whole  country  was  soon  awakened — individuals  and 
groups  everywhere  beginning  to  show  themselves  in  arms, 
and  nothing  was  needed  but  an  embodied  force  of  the  Ame- 
ricans, upon  which  they  could  concentrate  themselves  and 
rally  with  effect. 

It  was  on  the  10th  or  12th  of  August,  some  four  days 
before  the  defeat  of  Gates,  that  Marion  reached  the  post  at 
Lynch’s  Creek,  where  M‘Cottry  had  taken  his  position. 
He  was  commissioned  by  Governor  Rutledge  to  take  com- 
mand of  the  country  in  this  quarter,  and  we  will  hence- 
forth distinguish  him  as  General  Marion,  although  it  is  not 
so  certain  at  what  period  he  actually  received  this  promo- 
tion ; — we  find  him  in  possession  of  it  in  the  following  De- 
cember. 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


12i 


Of  liis  personal  appearance  at  this  time  we  nave  a brief 
out  striking  account  from  the  hands  of  the  venerable  Judge 
James — a son  of  the  Major — who  had  the  honor  to  serve 
under  Marion  at  the  age  of  fifteen 

“ He  wras  a stranger,”  says  the  Judge,  “ to  the  officers 
and  men,  and  they  flocked  about  him  to  obtain  a sight  of 
their  future  commander.  He  was  rather  below  the  middle 
stature,  lean  and  swarthy.  His  body  was  well  set,  but  his 
knees  and  ancles  were  badly  formed,  and  he  still  limped 
upon  one  leg.  He  had  a countenance  remarkably  steady  ; 
his  nose  was  aquiline,  his  chin  projecting  ; his  forehead 
large  and  high,  and  his  eyes  black  and  piercing.  He  was 
then  forty-eight  years  of  age,  with  a frame  capable  of 
enduring  fatigue  and  every  privation.”  Of  his  dress,  by 
which  we  may  form  some  idea  of  that  costume  which  had 
provoked  the  laughter  of  Gates’  veterans,  we  have  a 
description  also,  furnished  us  by  the  same  excellent  author- 
ity. We  know  not  but  that  this  description  will  provoke 
the  smile  of  the  reader.  But,  of  such  persons,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Judge,  “ even  trifles  become  important.” 
“ He  (Marion)  was  dressed  in  a close  round-bodied  crim- 
son jacket,  of  a coarse  texture,  and  wore  a leather  cap, 
part  of  the  uniform  of  the  second  regiment,  with  a silver 
crescent  in  front,  inscribed  with  the  words,  ‘ Liberty  or 
Death !’  ” 

Such  regimentals  show  rather  the  exigencies  than  the 
tastes  of  our  partisan.  This  scarlet  cloth,  of  which  his 
vest  was  made,  was  almost  the  only  kind  of  color  wffiich 
the  Carolinians  could  procure  after  the  conquest  of  Charles- 
ton. The  British  seemed  to  distribute  it  with  the  protec- 
tions and  pardons,  perhaps  as  a popular  mode  of  dissemi- 
nating their  principles.  Moultrie  somewhere  tells  a ludi- 
crous anecdote  of  some  Americans  (prisoners  on  parole) 
who  were  nearly  cut  to  pieces  by  a party  of  their  country- 


122 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


men,  in  consequence  of  their  scarlet  jackets.  They  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  dye  them  with  some  native  roots, 
but  the  dye  had  disappeared,  leaving  the  original  color 
nearly  as  vivid  as  before. 

According  to  Weems,  Marion  made  rather  a theatrical 
display  on  taking  command  of  his  brigade.  He  swore  them 
in  a circle  upon  their  swords,  never  to  yield  the  contest 
until  they  had  secured  their  own  and  the  liberties  of  their 
country.  There  is  no  authority  for  this  statement,  either 
in  the  work  of  James,  in  the  MS.  of  Horry,  or  in  any  of 
the  authorities.  There  is  no  doubt  that  such  were  his  own 
sentiments,  and  such  the  sentiments  which  he  strove  to  im- 
part to  all  his  followers ; but  the  scene  as  described  by  the 
reverend  historian  was  quite  too  artificial  and  theatrical 
for  the  tastes  of  Marion.  It  does  not  accord  with  what  we 
know  of  his  modesty,  his  unaffected  nature,  and  the  general 
simplicity  of  his  manners.  He  instilled  his  lessons  by  ex- 
amples rather  than  by  speeches.  His  words  were  usually 
very  few.  He  secured  the  fidelity  of  his  men  by  carrying 
them  bravely  into  action,  and  bringing  them  honorably  out 
of  it. 

Marion’s  career  of  activity  commenced  with  his  com- 
mand. Though  always  prudent,  he  yet  learned  that  pru- 
dence in  military  life  must  always  imply  activity.  The  in- 
security of  the  encampment,  with  a militia  force,  is  always 
greater  than  that  of  battle.  The  Roman  captains  of  cele- 
brity were  particularly  aware  of  this  truth.  But  the  acti- 
vity of  Marion  was  necessarily  straitened  by  the  condition 
in  which  he  found  his  men  They  were  wretchedly  defi- 
cient in  all  the  materials  of  service.  His  first  effort  to  sup- 
ply some  of  their-  wants,  was  in  sacking  the  saw-mills. 
The  saws  were  wrought  and  hammered  by  rude  black 
smiths  into  some  resemblance  to  sabres,  and  thus  provided, 
Marion  set  his  men  in  motion,  two  days  after  taking  the 


LIFE  OF  M IRION, 


123 

command.  Crossing  the  Pedee  at  Port’s  Ferry,  he  advanc- 
ed upon  a large  body  of  Tories  commanded  by  Major  Gai- 
ney, who  held  a position  upon  Britton’s  Neck.  Gainey  was 
considered  by  the  British  an  excellent  partisan  officer,  but 
he  was  caught  napping.  Marion  moved  with  equal  secrecy 
and  ce.erity.  After  riding  all  night,  he  came  upon  the  ene- 
my at  dawn  in  the  morning.  The  discovery  and  the  attack 
were  one.  The  surprise  was  complete.  A captain  and 
several  privates  were  slain,  and  the  party  dispersed.  Ma- 
rion did  not  lose  a man,  and  had  but  two  wounded.  In 
this  engagement,  our  representative,  Major  James,  distin- 
guished himseli  by  singling  out  Major  Gainey  for  personal 
combat.  But  Gainey  shrank  from  his  more  powerful  as- 
sailant, and  sought  safety  in  flight.  James  pursued  for  a 
distance  of  half  a mile.  In  the  eagerness  of  the  chase  he 
did  not  perceive  that  he  was  alone  and  unsupported.  It 
was  enough  that  he  was  gaining  upon  his  enemy,  who  was 
almost  within  reach  of  his  sword,  when  the  chase  brought 
them  suddenly  upon  a body  of  Tories  who  had  rallied  upon 
the  road.  There  was  not  a moment  to  be  lost.  Hesita- 
tion would  have  been  fatal.  But  our  gallant  Major  was 
not  to  be  easily  intimidated.  With  great  coolness  and  pre- 
sence of  mind,  waving  hrs  sword  aloft,  he  cried  out,  “ come 
on,  boys  ! here  they  are  !”  and  rushed  headlong  upon  the 
group  of  enemies,  as  if  perfectly  assured  of  support.  The 
ruse  wras  successful.  The  Tories  broke  once  more,  and 
sought  safety  from  their  individual  enemy  in  the  recesses 
of  Pedee  swamp. 

Marion  did  not  suffer  the  courage  of  his  men  to  cool.  In 
twenty-four  hours  after  this  event,  he  was  again  in  motion. 
Hearing  of  the  proximity  of  another  body  of  Tories,  under 
Captain  Barfield,  he  advanced  against  him  with  as  much 
celerity  and  caution  as  before.  But  he  found  Barfield 
strongly  posted,  in  greater  force  than  he  expected  ; warneu 


I 24 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


of  his  approach  and  waiting  for  him.  It  was  no  part  of 
Marion’s  practice  to  expose  his  men  unnecessarily.  He 
had  too  few,  to  risk  the  loss  of  any  precious  lives,  where  this 
was  to  be  avoided.  He  determined  upon  a different  mode 
of  managing  his  enemy,  and  resorted  to  a stratagem,  which, 
subsequently,  he  frequently  made  use  of.  Putting  a select 
party  of  his  men  in  ambush  near  the  Blue  Savannah,  he 
feigned  retreat  with  another,  and  thus  beguiled  his  enemy 
from  his  strong  position.  The  result  accorded  with  his 
wishes.  Barfield  followed  and  fell  into  the  snare.  The 
defeat  was  equally  complete  with  that  of  Gainey. 

The  conduct  and  skill,  in  managing  his  raw  militia-men, 
which  these  two  achievements  displayed,  naturally  inspired 
his  followers  with  confidence  in  themselves  and  their  leader 
They  produced  a corresponding  effect  upon  the  people  of 
the  country,  and  were  productive  of  no  small  annoyance  to 
the  Tories,  who  were  thus  suddenly  reminded  that  there 
might  be  retribution  for  crime  even  when  sheltered  under 
the  dragon  folds  of  England.  Another  benefit  from  these 
occurrences  was  in  better  providing  the  brigade  with  some 
of  the  proper  weapons  and  munitions  of  war. 

Among  the  recent  captures  of  Marion  were  two  old  field 
pieces.  Returning  to  Port’s  Ferry,  he  threw  up  a redoubt 
on  the  east  hank  of  the  Pedee,  upon  which  he  mounted 
them.  He  seldom  troubled  himself  with  such  heavy  bag- 
gage, and  probably  disposed  of  them  in  this  way,  quite  as 
much  to  disencumber  himself  of  them,  as  with  any  such 
motive,  as  was  alleged,  when  placing  them  in  battery,  of 
overawing  the  Tories  by  their  presence.  Movements  of  so 
rapid  a kind,  and  so  frequently  made  as  his,  requiring  equal 
dispatch  and  secrecy,  forbade  the  use  of  artillery ; and  he 
very  well  knew,  that,  to  employ  men  for  the  maintenance 
of  isolated  posts — such  posts  as  he  could  establish, — would 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


1 21 


nave  no  other  effect  than  to  expose  his  brigade  to  the  chan 
ces  of  being  cut  up  in  detail 

On  the  17th  August,  the  day  following  the  defeat  of 
Gates, — of  which  event  he  was  as  yet  wholly  ignorant-he 
dispatched  Col.  Peter  Horry,  with  orders  to  take  command 
of  four  companies,  Bonneau’s,  Mitchell’s,  Benson’s  and  Le- 
nud’s,  near  Georgetown,  on  the  Santee  ; to  destroy  all  the 
boats  and  canoes  on  the  river  from  the  lower  ferry  to  Le- 
nud’s — to  break  up  and  stop  all  communications  with 
Charleston,  and  to  procure,  if  possible,  supplies  of  gunpow- 
der, flints  and  bullets.  “ Twenty-five  weight  of  gunpowder, 
ball  or  buckshot,”  is  the  language  of  his  orders.  This  will 
show  how  scanty  were  the  supplies  which  were  to  be  pro- 
cured of  the  material  upon  which  everything  depended. 
Marion  frequently  went  into  action  with  less  than  three 
rounds  to  a man — half  of  his  men  were  sometimes  lookers 
on  because  of  the  lack  of  arms  and  ammunition — waiting  to 
see  the  fall  of  friends  or  enemies,  in  order  to  obtain  the  ne- 
cessary means  of  taking  part  in  the  affair.  Buck-shot  easily 
satisfied  soldiers,  who  not  unfrequently  advanced  to  the 
combat  with  nothing  but  swan-shot  in  their  fowling-pieces. 

While  Horry  proceeded  towards  Georgetown,  Marion 
marched  to  the  upper  Santee.  On  this  march  he  was 
advised  of  the  defeat  of  Gates  ; but,  fearing  its  effect  upon 
his  men,  without  communicating  it,  he  proceeded  imme- 
diately toward  Nelson’s  Ferry.  This  was  a well  known 
pass  on  the  great  route,  the  “ war-path”, from  Charleston 
to  Camden.  Here  his  scouts  advised  him  of  the  approach 
of  a strong  British  guard,  with  a large  body  of  prisoners 
taken  from  Gates.  The  guards  had  stopped  at  a house  on 
the  east  side  of  the  river.  Informed  of  all  necessary  par- 
ticulars, Marion,  a little  before  daylight,  detached  Col. 
Hugh  Horry,  with  sixteen  men,  to  gain  possession  of  the 
road,  at  the  pass  of  Horse  Creek,  in  the  swamp,  while  the 


12G 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


main  body  under  himself  was  to  attack  the  enemy’s  rear 
The  attempt  was  made  at  dawn,  and  was  perfectly  suc- 
cessful. A letter  from  Marion  himself,  to  Col.  P.  Horry, 
thus  details  the  event : — “ On  the  20th  inst.  I attacked  a 
guard  of  the  63d  and  Prince  of  Wales’  Regiment,  with  a 
number  of  Tories,  at  the  Great  Savannah,  near  Nelson’s 
Ferry  ; killed  and  took  twenty -two  regulars,  and  two 
Tories  prisoners,  and  retook  one  hundred  and  fifty  Conti- 
nentals of  the  Maryland  line,  one  wagon  and  a drum  ; one 
captain  and  a subaltern  were  also  captured.  Our  loss  is 
one  killed,  and  Captain  Benson  is  slightly  wounded  on  the 
head.” 

It  will  scarcely  be  believed  that,  of  this  hundred  and  fifty 
Continentals,  but  three  men  consented  to  join  the  ranks  of 
their  liberator.  It  may  be  that  they  were  somewhat  loth 
to  be  led,  even  though  it  were  to  victory,  by  the  man 
whose  ludicrous  equipments  and  followers,  but  a few 
weeks  before,  had  only  provoked  their  merriment.  The 
reason  given  for  their  refusal,  however,  was  not  deficient 
in  force.  “ They  considered  the  cause  of  the  country  to 
be  hopeless.  They  were  risking  life  without  an  adequate 
object.”  The  defeat  of  Gates,  and  his  bad  generalship, 
which  they  had  so  recently  witnessed,  were,  perhaps, 
quite  sufficient  reasons  to  justify  their  misgivings. 

This  disastrous  event  did  not  produce  like  despondency 
in  our  partisan  or  his  followers,  though  it  furnished  reasons 
for  the  greatest  circumspection.  At  this  moment  Marion’s 
was  the  only  body  of  American  troops  in  the  State,  openly 
opposed  to  the  triumphant  progress  of  the  British.  The 
Continentals  were  dispersed  or  captured  ; the  Virginia  and 
North  Carolina  militia  scattered  to  the  four  winds  ; Sum- 
ter’s legion  cut  up  by  Tarleton,  and  he  himself  a fugitive, 
fearless  and  active  still,  but  as  yet  seeking,  rather  than 
commanding,  a force.  Though  small  and  seemingly  insig- 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


127 


nificant,  the  force  of  Marion  had  shown  what  might  be 
done,  with  the  spirit  and  the  personnel  of  the  country, 
under  competent  leaders.  The  cruelties  of  the  British, 
who  subjected  the  vanquished  to  the  worst  treatment  of 
war,  helped  his  endeavors.  Shortly  after  the  victory  over 
Gates,  Lord  Cornwallis  addressed  an  order  to  the  British 
commandants  at  the  several  posts  throughout  the  country, 
of  which  the  following  are  extracts  : 

“ I have  given  orders  that  all  of  the  inhabitants  of  this 
province  who  have  subscribed,  and  have  taken  part  in  this 
revolt,  should  be  punished  with  the  greatest  rigor  ; and 
also  those  who  will  not  turn  out,  that  they  may  be  impri- 
soned and  their  whole  property  taken  from  them  or  de- 
stroyed  I have  ordered  in  the  most  positive 

manner  that  every  militia  man,  who  has  borne  arms  with 
us,  and  afterwards  joined  the  enemy,  shall  be  immediately 
hanged !” 

This  gentleman  has  been  called,  by  some  of  the  Ameri- 
can writers,  the  “ amiable  Cornwallis.”  It  is  rather  diffi- 
cult to  say  for  which  of  his  qualities  this  dulcet  epithet 
was  bestowed.  The  preceding  may  well  justify  us  in  the 
doubt  we  venture  to  express,  whether  it  was  not  given  as 
much  in  mockery  as  compliment.  But, lest  his  commands 
should  not  be  understood,  as  not  sufficiently  explicit,  his 
Lordship  proceeded  to  furnish  examples  of  his  meaning, 
which  left  his  desires  beyond  reasonable  question.  Imme- 
diately after  his  return  to  Camden,  he  stained  the  laurels 
of  his  recent  victory,  and  celebrated  his  triumph  over 
Gates,  bj7  hanging  some  twelve  or  fifteen  wretched  prison- 
ers, old  men  and  boys,  who  were  only  suspected  of  trea- 
chery to  the  royal  cause.  Similar  barbarities  were  prac- 
tised by  subordinate  officers,  emulative  of  this  example  of 
their  superior,  or  in  obedience  to  his  orders.  But,  fortu- 
nately for  the  country,  even  this  brutality,  which  was 


128 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


intended  to  alarm  the  fears  of  the  people,  and  do  that 
which  the  arts  of  their  conqueror  had  failed  to  effect,  was 
not  productive  of  the  desired  results.  It  drove  the  indig 
nant  into  the  field — it  shamed  the  unwilling  into  decision — 
it  spurred  on  the  inert  and  inactive  to  exertion,  and  armed 
the  doubtful  and  the  timid  with  resolution.  It  sent  hun- 
dreds, whom  nothing  had  moved  before,  into  the  ranks  of 
Marion  and  Sumter.  The  moment  of  defeat  and  greatest 
despondency — the  dark  before  the  dawn— was  that  when 
the  people  of  the  country  were  preparing  to  display  the 
most  animating  signs  of  life.  The  very  fact  that  the  force 
of  Marion  was  so  insignificant,  was  something  in  favor  of 
that  courage  and  patriotism,  that  confidence  in  his  own 
resources  and  his  men,  which,  defying  all  the  inequalities 
of  force,  could  move  him  to  traverse  the  very  paths  of  the 
conqueror,  and  pluck  his  prisoners  from  his  very  grasp. 
The  audacity  and  skill  of  Marion,  exhibited  in  numerous 
small  achievements  of  which  history  furnishes  no  particu- 
lars, extorted  a reluctant  confession  from  the  enemy,  whose 
unwilling  language  will  suffice  for  our  own.  Tarleton 
writes  : “ Mr.  Marion,*  by  his  zeal  and  abilities,  showed 
himself  capable  of  the  trust  committed  to  his  charge.  He 
collected  his  adherents  at  the  shortest  notice,  and,  after 
making  excursions  into  the  friendlv  districts,  or  threaten- 
ing  the  communications,  to  avoid  pursuit  he  disbanded  his 
followers.  The  alarms  occasioned  by  these  insurrections, 
frequently  retarded  supplies  on  their  way  to  the  army ; 

* The  British  officers  betrayed  a singular  reluctance  to  ac- 
cord to  the  Americans  their  military  titles.  The  reader  will 
recollect  the  letter  of  General  Gage  to  Mr.  Washington,  which 
the  latter  very  properly  refused  to  receive.  The  very  attempt 
here  made  to  sneer  away  the  official,  adds  to  the  personal  im- 
portance of  the  individual ; and  we  yield  to  plain  Mr.  Marion, 
with  his  ragged  followers,  who,  untitled,  eould  give  such  annoy- 
ance to  His  Majesty’s  officers,  a degree  of  respect  which  his 
title  might  not  otherwise  have  commanded 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


129 


and  a late  report  of  Marion’s  strength  delayed  the  junction 
of  the  recruits  who  had  arrived  from  New  York  for  the 
corps  in  the  country.”  The  64th  Regiment  of  Infantry 
was  ordered  to  Nelson’s  Ferry  from  Charleston,  and  direc- 
tions were  given  to  Lieut.  Col.  Taileton  to  pass  the 
YVateree  to  awe  the  insurgents.*  Cornwallis  writes  to 
Tarleton  : “ I most  sincerely  hope  that  you  will  get 

at  Mr.  Marion.”  In  short,  to  use  the  further  language  of 
the  British  Colonel,  Marion  completely  overran  the  lower 
districts.  He  cut  off  supplies  from  the  army,  broke  up 
the  Tories,  destroyed  recruiting  parties,  intercepted  and 
interrupted  communications,  and,  darting  to  and  fro  between 
the  British  posts,  which  he  had  not  the  power  to  overcome, 
showed  that  nothing  but  that  power  was  necessary  to  enable 
him  to  challenge  with  them  the  possession  of  the  soil.  That 
he  should  disband  Iris  men  at  one  moment,  and  be  able  by  a 
word  to  bring  them  together  when  they  were  again 
wanted,  proves  a singular  alliance  between  the  chieftain 
and  his  followers,  which  is  characteristic  only  of  the  most 
romantic  history.  It  shows  a power,  on  the  part  of  the 
former,  such  as  we  ascribe  to  the  winding  of  the  magic 
horn  of  Astolfo,  which  few  commanders  of  militia  have 
ever  had  the  skill  to  produce.  Evidently,  the  personal  and 
patriotic  influences  were  very  equally  strong,  to  occasion 
such  prompt  fidelity,  in  his  case,  on  the  part  cf  his  fol- 
lowers. 

* Tarleton’s  Campaigns,  4to  ed  pp.  17 L. 


6* 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Marion  retreats  before  a superior  force — Defeats  the  Tories 

at  Black  Mingo — Surprises  and  disperses  the  force  of  Col. 

Tyn  ;s  at  Tarcote — Is  pursued  by  Tarleton. 

The  solicitude  manifested  by  the  British  commander  in 
the  South  to  get  Marion  from  his  path,  soon  set  the  legion 
of  Tarleton,  and  a strong  force  under  Major  Wemyss,  in 
motion  for  his  retreats.  The  progress  of  Tarleton  was 
somewhat  delayed,  and  his  co-operation  with  Wemyss 
prevented.  The  latter  pushed  his  advance  with  equal 
spirit  and  address.  Marion  had  with  him  but  one  hundred 
and  fifty  men,  when  he  heard  of  the  approach  of  his  ene- 
mies. His  force,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  of  a peculiar 
kind,  and  was  constantly  fluctuating.  His  men  had  cares 
other  than  those  of  their  country’s  liberties.  Young  and 
tender  families  were  to  be  provided  for  and  guarded  in  the 
thickets  where  they  found  shelter.  These  were  often 
threatened  in  the  absence  of  their  protectors  by  marauding 
bands  of  Tories,  who  watched  the  moment  of  the  departure 
of  the  Whigs,  to  rise  upon  the  weak,  and  rob  and  harass  the 
unprotected.  The  citizen  soldiery  were  thus  doubly  em- 
ployed, and  had  cares  to  endure,  and  duties  to  perform^ 
from  which  regular  troops  are  usually  exempt,  and  for 
which  regular  officers  seldom  make  allowance.  The  good 
judgment  of  Marion,  taking  these  necessities  into  conside- 
ration, exercised  that  patience  wi:h  the  militia  which  se- 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


131 


cured  their  fidelity.  When  he  found  this  or  that  body  of 
men  anxious  about  their  families,  he  yielded  most  generally 
without  reluctance  to  their  wishes.  This  indulgence  had 
its  effects.  Then  return  was  certain.  They  seldom  lin- 
gered beyond  the  time  at  which  they  had  pledged  themselves 
to  reappear. 

It  was  in  consequence  of  this  indulgence  that  his  force 
was  thus  reduced  when  the  British  approach  was  known. 
Wemyss  was  in  command  of  the  63d  regiment.  He  was 
accompanied  by  a large  body  of  Tories  under  Major  Harri- 
son. They  moved  with  caution  and  speed,  but  the  Ameri- 
can General  was  on  the  alert.  He  dispatched  Major 
James  with  a select  body  of  volunteers  to  reconnoitre.  His 
various  outposts  were  called  in,  and  with  his  whole  pre- 
sent strength,  thus  united,  Marion  followed  on  the  footsteps 
of  James,  prepared,  if  the  chances  promised  him  success,  for 
doing  battle  with  his  enemy. 

Major  James,  meanwhile,  who  was  equally  bold  and  skil- 
ful, pressed  forward  fearlessly  till  he  became  aware  of  the 
proximity  of  the  British.  He  was  resolved  to  make  sure 
of  his  intelligence.  He  placed  himself  in  a thicket  on  their 
line  of  march,  and  by  a bright  moon,  was  readily  enabled  to 
form  a very  correct  notion  of  their  character  and  numbers. 
But  as  the  rear-guard  passed  by,  his  courageous  spirit 
prompted  further  performances.  He  was  not  content  to 
carry  to  his  general  no  other  proofs  of  his  vigilance  but  the 
tidings  which  he  had  obtained.  His  perfect  knowledge  of 
the  ground,  his  confidence  in  the  excellent  character  of  his 
men,  and  the  speed  of  their  horses,  moved  him  to  greater 
daring ; and,  bursting  from  his  hiding-place,  with  a terrible 
shout,  he  swooped  down  with  his  small  party  upon  the 
startled  stragglers  in  the  rear  of  the  Tory  march,  carrying  off 
his  piisoners  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  without  stopping 
to  slay,  and  without  suffering  the  loss  of  a man  Before 


132 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


the  enemy  could  rally,  and  turn  upon  his  path,  the  tread 
of  the  partisan’s  horse  no  longer  sounded  in  his  ears. 

The  intelligence  which  James  bore  to  his  commander  was 
scarcely  so  encouraging.  He  reported  the  British  regulars 
to  be  double  their  own  force  in  number,  while  the  Tores  in 
the  rear  were  alone  estimated  at  five  hundred  men.  Re- 
treat, perhaps  dispersion,  was  now  inevitable.  This  was 
the  sort  of  game,  which,  in  his  feebleness,  and  under  the 
pressure  of  a very  superior  foe,  our  partisan  was  compelled 
to  play.  It  was  sometimes  a humiliating  one,  and  always 
attended  with  some  discouragements.  The  evil  effects, 
however,  were  only  temporary.  His  men  never  retired  be- 
yond his  reach.  They  came  again  at  a call,  refreshed  by 
the  respite,  and  assured  by  the  conviction  that  their  com- 
mander was  quite  as  careful  of  their  lives  as  themselves. 
Such  a game  was  not  without  its  interest,  and  its  peculiar- 
ities were  such  as  to  give  animation  to  the  valor  which  it 
exercised.  In  these  peculiarities  of  his  warfare,  lies  that 
secret  charm  which  has  made  tradition,  in  the  southern 
country,  linger  so  long  and  so  fondly  upon  the  name  of 
Marion. 

Judge  James  gives  us, in  few  words,  a lively  idea  of  the 
consultation  which  followed  the  return  and  the  report  of 
Major  James.  “ About  an  hour  before  day,  Marion  met 
the  Major  half  a mile  from  his  plantation.  The  officers 
immediately  dismounted  and  retired  to  consult ; the  men 
sat  on  their  horses  in  a state  of  anxious  suspense.  The  con- 
ference was  long  and  animated.  At  the  end  of  it,  an  order 
was  given  to  direct  the  march  back  to  Lynch’s  Creek  (the 
route  to  North  Carolina),  and  no  sooner  was  it  given  than 
a bitter  groan  might  have  been  heard  along  the  whole  line 
A bitter  cup  had  now  been  mingled  for  the  people  of 
Williamsburg  and  Pedee,  and  they  were  doomed  to  drain  i 
to  the  dregs,  but  in  the  end  it  proved  a salutary  medicine. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


133 


The  evil  here  deplored  was  the  temporary  abandonment;, 
for  the  first  time,  of  this  particular  section  of  country. 
Hitherto,  the  enemy  had  never  appeared  in  their  neighbor- 
hood with  such  a force  as  enabled  them  to  overrun  it  with- 
out fear  of  opposition.  Now,  they  were  destined  to  suffer 
from  those  tender  mercies  of  British  and  Tories,  which  had 
written  their  chronicles  in  blood  and  flame,  wherever  their 
footsteps  had  gone  before.  Bitter,  indeed,  was  the  medi- 
cine, to  'whom  its  taste  was  new.  But,  as  writes  the  vene- 
rable biographer,  it  was  salutary  in  the  end.  It  strength- 
ened their  souls  for  the  future  trial.  It  made  them  more 
resolute  in  the  play.  With  their  own  houses  in  smoking 
ruins,  and  their  own  wives  and  children  homeless  and  wan- 
dering, they  could  better  feel  what  was  due  to  the  sufferings 
of  their  common  country. 

It  was  at  sunset  the  next  evening  that  Marion  commenc- 
ed his  flight  to  North  Carolina.  He  kept  with  him  only 
sixty  men.  The  rest  dropped  off  by  degrees  as  they  ap- 
proached their  several  hiding-places,  lying  snug,  until  they 
again  heard  the  signal  of  their  commander, — frequently 
nothing  but  a whisper, — which  once  more  brought  them 
forth,  to  turn  the  pursuit  upon  their  enemies  and  avenge 
themselves  by  sudden  onslaught  for  the  ruin  of  their  home- 
steads. On  this  retreat,  Marion  took  with  him  the  two 
field-pieces  which  we  found  him  placing  in  battery  on  the 
Pedee  a short  time  before.  His  desire  to  save  these  pie- 
ces was  due  rather  to  the  supposed  effect  which  their  pos- 
session had  upon  the  minds  of  the  Tories,  than  because  of 
any  real  intrinsic  use  which  they  possessed  in  his  hands 
They  encumbered  his  flight,  however,  and  he  disposed  of 
them,  finally,  without  compunction.  Wheeling  them  into 
a swamp  he  left  them,  where,  possibly,  they  remain  to  this 
day,  the  object  of  occasional  start  and  wonderment  to  the 
stalking  deer-hunter.  This,  says  Judge  James,  u was  the 


134 


LIFE  OV  MARION 


last  instance  of  military  parade  evinced  by  the  Gene- 
ral.” Marching  day  and  night  he  arrived  at  Amy’s  Mill, 
on  Drowning  Creek.  From  this  place,  he  sent  forth  his 
parties,  back  to  South  Carolina,  to  gain  intelligence  and 
rouse  the  militia.  He  himself  continued  his  march.  He 
pitched  his  camp  finally,  on  the  east  side  of  the  White 
Marsh,  near  the  head  of  the  Waccamaw.  There  may  have 
been  a motive,  other  than  the  desire  for  safety,  which  led 
Marion  to  choose  and  retain  this  position.  The  borders  of 
North  Carolina  swarmed  with  Tories,  chiefly  descendants 
of  the  Scotch,  who  constituted,  on  frequent  subsequent  oc 
casions,  the  perplexing  enemies  with  whom  our  partisan 
had  to  contend.  It  is  not  improbable,  though  history  does 
not  declare  the  fact,  that  he  chose  the  present  occasion  for 
overawing  the  scattered  parties,  who  were  always  stretch- 
ing with  lawless  footsteps  from  Cape  Fear  to  the  Great 
Pedee.  It  was  while  he  lay  at  this  place,  that  the  venera- 
ble Judge  James,  then  a boy  of  sixteen,  had  the  honor,  for 
the  first  time,  to  dine  with  Marion.  It  was  in  the  absence 
of  Major  James,  the  father  of  the  boy,  who  was  one  of  the 
volunteers  sent  back  to  South  Carolina.  The  artless  de- 
scription which  the  Judge  has  given  us  of  this  event,  so 
characteristic  of  Marion,  and  of  the  necessities  to  which  he 
was  habitually  compelled  to  submit,  will  better  please  than 
a much  more  elaborate  narrative. 

“ The  dinner  was  set  before  the  company  by  the  Gene- 
ral’s servant,  Oscar,  partly  on  a pine  log  and  partly  on  the 
ground.  It  consisted  of  lean  beef,  without  salt,  and  sweet 
potatoes.  The  author  had  left  a small  pot  of  boiled 
hominy  in  his  camp,  and  requested  leave  of  bis  host  to 
send  for  it,  and  the  proposal  was  gladly  acquiesced  in 
The  hominy  had  salt  in  it,  and  proved,  though  eaten  out 
of  the  pot,  a most  acceptable  repast.  The  General  said 
but  little,  and  that  was  chiefly  what  a son  would  be  most 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


135 


likely  to  be  gratified  by,  in  the  praise  of  his  father.  We 
had  nothing  to  drink  but  bad  water  ; and  all  the  company 
appeared  to  be  rather  grave.” 

That  the  party  should  be  rather  grave,  flying  from  their 
homes  and  a superior  foe,  eating  unsalted  pottage,  and 
drinking  bad  water,  was,  perhaps,  natural  enough.  That 
this  gravity  should  appear  doubly  impressive  to  a lad  of 
sixteen,  in  a presence  which  he  was  taught  to  venerate, 
was  still  more  likely  to  be  the  case.  But  Marion,  though 
a cheerful  man,  wore  ordinarily  a grave,  sedate  expression 
of  countenance.  Never  darkened  by  gloom,  it  was  seldom 
usurped  by  mere  merriment.  He  had  no  uproarious  hu- 
mor. His  tastes  were  delicate,  his  habits  gentle,  his  sensi- 
bilities warm  and  watchful.  At  most  a quiet  smile  lighted  up 
his  features,  and  he  could  deal  in  little  gushes  of  humor, 
of  which  there  was  a precious  fountain  at  the  bottom  of 
his  heart.  That  he  was  capable  of  a sharp  sarcasm, 
was  also  generally  understood  among  his  friends.  Horry 
remarks,  that  few  men  ever  excelled  him  at  retort.  But 
he  was  singularly  considerate  of  the  sensibilities  of  others, 
and  had  his  temper  under  rare  command.  His  powers  of 
forbearance  were  remarkable.  His  demeanor,  whether  in 
triumph  or  despondency,  wa.-  equally  quiet  and  subdued 
He  yielded  to  few  excitements,  was  seldom  elevated  by 
successes  to  imprudence — as  seldom  depressed  by  disappoint- 
ments to  despondency.  The  equable  tone  of  his  mind 
reminds  us  again  of  Washington. 

It  was  while  Marion  remained  at  White  Marsh,  that 
one  of  his  captains,  Gavin  Witherspoon,  whom  he  had 
sent  out  with  four  men,  achieved  one  of  those  clever  per- 
formances, that  so  frequently  distinguished  the  men  of  Ma- 
rion. He  had  taken  refuge  in  Pedee  Swamp  from  the  pur- 
suit of  the  enemy,  and,  while  hiding,  discovered  one  of  the 
camps  of  the  Tories  who  had  been  in  pursuit  of  him. 


136 


LIFE  OF  MARK  1>  . 


Witherspoon  proposed  to  his  four  comrades  to  watch  the 
enemy’s  camp,  until  the  Tories  were  asleep.  But  his  men 
timidly  shrank  from  the  performance,  expressing  their 
dread  of  superior  numbers.  Witherspoon  undertook  the 
adventure  himself.  Creeping  up  to  the  encampment,  he 
found  that  they  slept  at  the  butt  of  a pine  tree,  which  had 
been  torn  up  by  the  roots.  Their  guns  were  piled  against 
one  of  its  branches  at  a little  distance  from  them.  These 
he  first  determined  to  secure,  and,  still  creeping,  with  the 
skill  and  caution  of  an  experienced  scout,  he  succeeded  in 
his  object.  The  guns  once  in  his  possession,  he  aroused 
the  Tories  by  commanding  their  surrender.  They  were 
seven  in  number,  unarmed,  and  knew  nothing  of  the  force 
of  the  assailant.  His  own  more  timid  followers  drew 
near  in  sufficient  time  to  assist  in  securing  the  prisoners. 
There  was  another  Witherspoon  with  Marion,  John,  a 
brother  of  Gavin,  and  like  him  distinguished  for  great 
coolness,  strength,  and  courage.  Both  of  the  brothers  de- 
lighted in  such  adventures,  and  were  always  ready  to  engage 
in  them, — the  rashness  of  the  attempt  giving  a sort  of 
relish  to  the  danger,  which  always  sweetened  it  to  the 
taste  of  our  partisans. 

The  return  of  the  various  scouting  parties  which  Ma- 
rion sent  out,  soon  set  his  little  brigade  in  motion.  The 
intelligence  which  they  brought  was  well  calculated  to 
sting  his  soldiers,  as  well  as  himself,  into  immediate  acti- 
vity. The  medicine  which  the  British  had  administered  to 
the  country  they  abandoned,  had  not  been  suffered  to  lose 
any  of  its  bitterness.  As  had  been  feared,  the  Tories  had 
laid  waste  the  farms  and  plantations.  The  region  through 
which  Major  Wemyss  had  passed,  for  seventy  miles  in 
length  and  fifteen  in  breadth,  displayed  one  broad  face  of 
desolation.  It  had  been  swept  by  sword  and  fire.  Havoc 
had  exercised  its  most  ingenious  powers  of  destruction 


LIFE  OF  MARION.  lo 

On  most  of  the  plantations  the  houses  were  given  to  tL 
flames,  the  inhabitants  plundered  of  all  their  possessions, 
and  the  stock,  especially  the  sheep,  wantonly  shot  or 
bayoneted.  Wemyss  seems  to  have  been  particularly  hos- 
tile to  looms  and  sheep,  simply  because  they  supplied  the 
inhabitants  with  clothing.  He  seldom  suffered  the  furni- 
ture to  be  withdrawn  from  a dwelling  which  he  had  doom- 
ed to  be  destroyed  : Presbyterian  churches  he  burnt  reli 
giously,  as  so  many  “ sedition-shops.”  It  was  fortunate 
for  the  wretched  country,  thus  ravaged,  that  the  corn  was 
not  generally  housed ; it  was  only  in  part  destroyed.  Had 
the  Tories  played  the  same  game  in  the  cornfields  of  the 
patriots,  that  Grant’s  men  had  done  in  those  of  the  Chero- 
kees,  as  recorded  in  an  early  page  of  this  volume,*  the  de- 
vastation would  have  been  complete.  They  had  not  limit- 
ed their  proceedings  to  these  minor  crimes.  They  had 
added  human  butchery  and  hanging  to  those  other  offences 
for  which  vengeance  was  in  store.  The  wife  and  children 
of  one  Adam  Cusack,  threw  themselves  across  the  path  of 
Wemyss  to  obtain  the  pardon  of  the  husband  and  the  father. 
The  crime  of  Cusack  was  in  having  taken  arms  against  the 
enemy.  Their  prayers  were  in  vain.  But  for  the  inter- 
ference of  his  own  officers,  the  ruthless  Briton  would  have 
ridden  over  the  kneeling  innocents.  This  was  not  the  only 
savage  murder  of  the  same  description  which  this  wretched 
people  had  to  endure.  But  such  atrocities  were  sharp 
medicines,  benefits  in  disguise,  good  against  cow'ardice, 
selfishness,  double-dealing,  and  deficient  patriotism.  They 
worked  famously  upon  the  natives,  while  they  proved  the 
invader  to  be  as  little  capable  of  good  policy,  as  of  ordi- 
nary humanity.  They  roused  the  spirit  of  the  militia, 
whet  their  anger  and  their  swords  together,  and,  by  the 


* See  ante,  p.  50-53. 


138 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


time  tfiat  Marion  reappeared,  they  were  ready  for  their 
General.  He  asked  for  nothing  more.  He  re-entered 
South  Carolina  by  a forced  march  Travelling  night  and 
day,  he  hurried  through  the  Tory  settlements  on  Little 
Pedee,  a space  of  sixty  miles  on  the  second  day  of  his 
journey.  At  Lynch’s  Creek  he  was  joined  by  Captains 
James  and  Mouzon,  with  a considerable  body  of  men.  He 
was  prepared  to  give  them  instant  employment.  Major 
VYemyss  had  retired  to  Georgetown,  but  Marion  was  ad- 
vised of  a large  body  of  Tories  at  Black  Mingo,  fifteen  miles 
below,  under  the  command  of  Capt.  John  Coming  Ball. 
Marion  was  in  expectation,  every  moment,  of  additional 
troops,  but  he  determined  not  to  wait  for  them.  He  found 
his  men  in  the  proper  mood  for  fight,  and  at  such  times 
small  inequalities  of  force  are  not  to  be  regarded.  He 
resolved  to  give  the  humor  vent,  and  at  once  commenced 
his  march  for  the  enemy’s  encampment.  He  found  the 
Tories  strongly  posted  at  Shepherd’s  Ferry,  on  the  south 
side  of  the  Black  Mingo,  on  a deep  navigable  stream,  the 
passage  of  which  they  commanded.  There  was  but  one 
other  approach  to  them,  about  a mile  above  their  position, 
through  a boggy  causeway,  and  over  a bridge  of  planks. 
It  was  nearly  midnight  when  Marion’s  troops  reached  this 
pass.  While  the  horses  were  crossing  the  bridge,  an 
alarm-gun  was  heard  from  the  Tory  camp.  Celerity  now 
became  as  necessary  to  success  as  caution,  and  Marion 
ordered  his  men  to  follow  him  at  full  gallop.  When  they 
reached  the  main  road,  about  three  hundred  yards  from  the 
enemy,  the  whole  force,  with  the  exception  of  a small 
body  acting  as  cavalry,  dismounted.  A body  of  picked 
men,  under  Captain  Waties,  was  ordered  down  the  road  to 
attack  Dollard’s  house,  where  the  Tories  had  been  posted. 
Two  companies,  under  Col.  Hugh  Horry,  were  sent  to  the 
right,  and  the  cavalry  to  the  left,  to  support  the  attack, 


Marion  crossing  the  Black  Mingo. — Pack  138. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


139 


Marion  himself  bringing  up  the  reserve.  It  so  happened, 
however,  that  the  Tories  had  taken  the  alarm,  and  having 
withdrawn  from  the  house,  had  chosen  a st  rong  position  in 
an  old  field  near  it.  Here  they  encountered  Horry’s  com- 
mand, on  the  advance,  with  a fire  equally  severe  and  unex- 
pected. The  effect  was  that  of  a surprise  upon  the  assail- 
ants. Horry’s  troops  fell  back  in  confusion,  but  were 
promptly  rallied  and  brought  to  the  charge.  The  battle 
was  obstinate  and  bloody,  but  the  appearance  of  the  corps 
under  Waties,  suddenly,  in  the  rear  of  the  Tories,  soon 
brought  it  to  a close.  Finding  themselves  between  two 
fires,  the  enemy  gave  way  in  all  directions,  and  fled  for 
refuge  to  the  neighboring  swamp  of  Black  Mingo.  So 
warmly  contested  was  this  affair,  that,  though  soon  over, 
fully  one  third  of  the  men  brought  into  the  field  were  pul 
hors  de  combat.  The  loss  of  Marion  was  proportionably 
very  considerable.  Captain  Logan  was  among  his  slain  , 
and  Captain  Mouzon  and  Lieut.  Scott  so  severely  wounded 
as  to  be  unfit  for  future  service.  The  force  of  the  Tories 
was  almost  twice  as  great  as  that  of  the  Whigs.  They 
lost  their  commander,  and  left  nearly  half  their  number, 
killed  and  wounded,  on  the  ground.  But  for  the  alarm 
given  by  the  tread  of  Marion’s  horses,  while  crossing  the 
neighboring  bridge,  the  Tories  would  most  probably  have 
been  surprised.  At  any  rate,  the  affair  would  have  been 
settled  without  subjecting  the  brigade  to  the  severe  loss 
which  it  sustained.  After  this  event  Marion  adopted  the 
precaution,  whenever  about  to  cross  a bridge  by  night, 
with  an  enemy  near,  to  cover  the  planks  with  the  blankets 
of  his  men.  But  he  generally  preferred  fords,  wdiere  they 
could  possibly  be  had,  to  bridges. 

This  victory  was  very  complete.  Many  of  the  Tories 
came  in,  and  joined  the  ranks  of  the  conqueror.  Those 
who  did  not,  were  quite  too  much  confounded  to  show 


140 


LIFE  OF  MARION* 


much  impatience  in  taking  up  arms  against  him  His  uni 
form  successes,  whenever  he  struck,  had  already  strongly 
impressed  the  i naginations  of  the  people  His  name  war 
already  the  rallying  word  throughout  the  country  To  join 
Marion,  to  be  one  of  Marion’s  men,  was  the  duty  which 
the  grandsire  imposed  upon  the  lad,  and  to  the  perform- 
ance of  which,  throwing  aside  his  crutch,  he  led  the  way. 

We  have  already  shown  why  the  force  of  Marion  was 
so  liable  to  fluctuation.  The  necessity  of  providing  for, 
and  protecting  destitute  families,  starving  wives  and  naked 
children,  was  more  imperative  than  that  of  a remote  and 
fancied  liberty.  These  cases  attended  to,  the  militia  came 
forth,  struck  a few  blows,  and  once  more  returned  to  their 
destitute  dependants.  The  victory  over  the  Tories  of  Black 
Mingo,  was,  from  this  cause,  followed  by  a more  than 
usually  prolonged  inactivity  of  our  partisan.  His  men 
demanded  a respite  to  go  and  see  their  families.  He  con- 
sented, with  some  reluctance,  for  the  business  of  the 
campaign  was  only  beginning  to  open  itself  before  him. 
They  promised  him,  as  usual,  to  return  in  season  ; but  re- 
mained so  long  absent,  that,  for  the  first  time,  he  now  began 
to  doubt  and  despair  of  them.  This  feeling  was  not  natu- 
ral with  him.  It  was  probably  only  due  now  to  some  de 
rangement  of  his  own  health,  some  anxiety  to  achieve 
objects  which  presented  themselves  prominently  to  his 
mind.  He  had  probably  heard  of  the  advance  of  General 
Greene,  who,  having  succeeded  to  Gates,  was  pressing  for- 
ward with  fresh  recruits,  and  the  remnant  of  the  fugitives 
who  survived,  in  freedom,  the  fatal  battle  of  Camden.  A 
laudable  anxiety  to  be  active  at  such  a time,  to  show  to  the 
approaching  Continentals  that  there  was  a spirit  in  the 
State  which  they  came  to  succor,  af  which  the  most 
happy  auguries  might  be  entertained,  prompted  his  morbid 
Impatience  at  tae  long  delay  of  his  absentees.  There  wera 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


141 


other  causes  which  led  him  to  feel  this  delay  more  seriously 
aow  than  at  other  times.  The  Tories  were  again  gathering 
in  force  around  him.  Under  these  circumstances,  and 
with  these  feelings,  he  consulted  with  his  officers  whether 
they  should  not  leave  the  State  and  join  the  approaching 
army  of  Greene.  Hugh  Horry  counselled  him  strenuously 
against  it.  His  counsel  was  seconded  by  the  rest.  They 
prevailed  with  him.  It  was  fortunate  that  they  did  so ; 
for  the  great  efficiency  of  Marion  was  in  the  independence 
of  his  command.  While  the  matter  was  yet  in  debate,  the 
militia  began  to  re-appear.  He  had  not  sufficiently  allowed 
for  their  exigencies,  for  the  scattered  homes  and  hiding- 
places  of  famishing  hundreds,  living  on  precarious  supplies, 
in  swamp  and  thicket.  How  could  he  reproach  them — 
fighting  as  they  were  for  love  of  country  only,  and  under 
such  privations — that  country  yielding  them  nothing,  no 
money,  no  clothes,  no  provisions,— lor  they  were  nothing 
but  militia.  They  were  not  enrolled  on  the  Continental 
pay  list.  That  they  should  seek  the  field  at  all,  thus  cir- 
cumstanced, will  be  ever  a wonder  to  that  class  of  philo- 
sophers who  found  their  systems  upon  the  simple  doctrine 
of  human  selfishness. 

True  to  their  chief,  he  rejoiced  once  more  in  their  fidelity  ; 
and,  marching  into  Williamsburg,  he  continued  to  increase 
his  numbers  with  his  advance.  His  present  object  was  the 
chastisement  of  Col.  Harrison,  who  was  in  force  upon 
Lynch’s  Creek ; but  his  progress  in  this  direction  was  sud- 
denly arrested  by  his  scouts,  who  brought  him  tidings  of 
large  gatherings  of  Tories  in  and  about  Salem  and  the 
fork  of  Black  River.  In  this  quarter,  on&  Colonel  Tynes 
had  made  his  appearance,  and  had  summoned  the  people 
generally,  as  good  subjects  of  his  majesty,  to  take  the  field 
against  their  countrymen.  It  was  necessary  to  check  this 
rising,  and  to  scatter  it  before  it  gained  too  much  head  ; to 


142 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


lessen  toe  influence  of  Tynes  and  his  party,  over  those  who 
were  doubtful,  and  afford  the  friends  of  the  patriots  an  op- 
portunity to  come  out  on  the  proper  side.  There  were 
other  inducements  to  the  movement.  Col.  Tynes  had 
brought  with  him  from  Charleston,  large  supplies  of  the  ma- 
terials of  war  and  comfort — commodities  of  which  the  poor 
patriots  stood  grievously  in  need.  They  hungered  at  the 
tidings  brought  by  the  scouts,  of  new  English  muskets  and 
bayonets,  broad-swords  and  pistols,  saddles  and  bridles, 
powder  and  ball,  which  the  provident  Colonel  had  procured 
from  Charleston  for  fitting  out  the  new  levies.  To  strike 
at  this  gathering,  prevent  these  new  levies,  and  procure 
the  supplies  which  were  designed  for  them,  were  control- 
ling objects  to  which  all  others  were  made  to  yield.  The 
half  naked  troops  of  the  brigade  found  new  motives  to  valor 
in  the  good  things  which  the  adventure  promised.  Tynes 
lay  at  Tarcote,  in  the  forks  of  Black  River,  and,  as  Marion 
was  advised,  without  exercising  much  military  watchful- 
ness. The  head  of  his  coluiYin  was  instantly  turned  in  this 
direction.  Crossing  the  lower  ford  of  the  northern  branch 
of  Black  River,  at  Nelson’s  plantation,  he  came  upon  the 
camp  of  Tynes  at  midnight.  A hurried,  but  satisfactory 
survey,  revealed  the  position  of  the  enemy.  No  preparation 
had  been  made  for  safety,  no  precautions  taken  against 
attack.  Some  of  the  Tories  slept,  others  feasted,  and  others 
were  at  cards — none  watched.  Marion  made  his  arrange- 
ments for  the  attack  without  obstacle  or  interruption.  The 
surprise  was  complete, — the  panic  universal.  A few  were 
slain,  some  with  the  cards  in  their  hands.  Tynes,  with  two 
of  his  officers,  and  many  of  his  men,  were  made  prisoners, 
but  the  greater  number  fled.  Few  were  slain,  as  scarcely 
any  resistance  was  offered,  and  Tarcote  Swamp  was  fortu- 
nately nigh  to  receive  and  shelter  the  fugitives,  many  of 
whom  shortly  after  made  their  appearance  and  took  tlwdr 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


143 


places  in  the  ranks  cf  the  conqueror.  Marion  lost  not  a 
man.  The  anticipations  of  his  people  were  gratified  with 
the  acquisition  of  no  small  store  of  those  supplies,  arms  and 
ammunition,  of  which  they  had  previously  stood  in  so  much 
need. 

These  spirited  achievements,  however  small,  were  so 
cleverly  executed,  so  unexpectedly,  and  with  such  uniform 
success,  as  to  occasion  a lively  sensation  through  the  coun- 
try. Hope  everywhere  began  to  warm  the  patriots  of  the 
State,  bringing  courage  along  with  it.  The  effect  upon  the 
enemy,  of  an  opposite  temper  and  tendency,  was  quite  as 
lively.  Cornwallis,  whom  we  have  already  seen  urging 
Tarleton  to  the  pursuit  of  our  partisan,  frankly  acknow- 
ledged his  great  merits,  and  was  heard  to  say  that  “ he 
would  give  a good  deal  to  have  him  taken.”*  His  lan- 
guage  to  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  in  a letter  dated  from  his  camp 
at  Winnsborough,  December  3d,  1780,  of  a different  tone, 
indeed,  was  of  like  tenor.  It  spoke  for  the  wonderful  pro- 
gress and  influence  of  our  hero — a progress  and  influence 
not  to  be  understood  by  the  reader,  from  the  meagre  ac- 
count which  we  are  enabled  to  give  of  the  battles,  skir- 
mishes and  happy  stratagems,  in  which  his  men  were  con- 
stantly engaged.  Cornwallis  writes, — “ Col.  Marion  had 
so  wrought  on  the  minds  of  the  people,  partly  by  the  terror 
of  his  threats  and  cruelty  of  his  punishments,  and  partly  by 
the  promise  of  plunder,  that  there  was  scarcely  an  inhabit- 
ant between  the  Santee  and  Pedee , that  was  not  in  arms 
against  us.  Some  parties  had  even  crossed  the  Santee , ana 
carried  terror  to  the  gates  of  Charleston 

Where  his  lordship  speaks  of  the  successes  of  Marion 
his  great  influence  over  the  people,  and  the  audacity  with 
which  they  urged  their  progress  through  all  parts  of  that 
section  of  country,  which  had  been  yield  ;d  to  his  control  by 
* Moultrie’s  Memoirs. 


144 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


Governor  Rutledge,  his  statement  is  true  to  the  very  letter. 
It  sums  up  very  happily  the  results  of  bis  activity  and  con- 
duct?', But,  when  his  lordship  alleges  cruelty  and  threats, 
and  the  hopes  of  plunder,  as  the  means  by  which  these 
results  were  produced,  we  meet  his  assertion  with  very  flat 
denial.  All  the  testimonies  of  the  time,  but  his  own,  show 
that,  in  this  respect,  he  wandered  very  widely  from  the 
truth.  No  single  specification  of  cruelty  was  ever  alleged 
against  the  fair  fame  of  Francis  Marion.  His  reputation,  as 
a humane  soldier,  is  beyond  reproach,  and  when  questioned, 
always  challenged  and  invited  investigation.  The  charge 
made  by  Cornwallis  was  urged  by  Lt.-Col.  Balfour,  com 
mandant  of  Charleston,  in  a correspondence  with  General 
Moultrie.  The  latter  answered  it  in  a frank  and  confident 
manner,  which  showed  what  he  thought  of  it.  “ I am 
sorry,”  he  writes  to  Balfour,  u to  hear  that  General  Marion 
should  use  his  prisoners  ill.  It  is  contrary  to  his  natural 
disposition  : I know  him  to  be  generous  and  humane .”*  He 
adds  elsewhere  : “ General  Marion  always  gave  orders  to 
his  men  that  there  should  be  no  waste  of  the  inhabitants’ 
property,  and  no  plundering.”!  Marion  had  lived  in  the 
family  of  Moultrie,!  had  repeatedly  served  under  him,  and 
if  any  man  knew  thoroughly  his  true  disposition,  the  hero 
of  Fort  Sullivan  was  certainly  that  man.  But  the  testimo- 
ny of  all  who  knew  him  was  to  the  same  effect.  Indeed, 
the  gentleness  of  his  nature  made  him  a favorite  wherever 
known.  Touching  the  offers  and  hopes  of  plunder,  which 
his  men  are  said  to  have  received,  this  scarcely  requires 
any  answer.  We  have  seen,  and  shall  see  hereafter,  the 
state  of  poverty  and  privation  in  which  the  brigade  of 
Marion  subsisted.  A few  little  facts  will  better  serve  to 
show  what  their  condition  was.  During  the  whole  pe- 

* Memoirs,  vol.  ii.  p.  174.  f Moultrie,  vol.  ii.  p.  236. 

J MS.  Memoirs  of  General  Horry. 


LIB  E OF  MARION. 


145 


riod  in  which  we  have  seen  him  engaged,  and  for  some 
months  later,  Marion  himself,  winter  and  summer,  had 
slept  without  the  luxury  of  a blanket.  He  had  but  one, 
on  taking  command  of  the  “ Brigade,”  and  this  he  lost  by 
accident.  Sleeping  soundly,  after  one  of  his  forced  march' 
es,  upon  a bed  of  pine  straw,  it  took  fire,  his  blanket  was 
destroyed,  and  he  himself  had  an  escape  so  narrow,  that  one 
half  of  the  cap  he  wore  was  shrivelled  up  by  the  flames. 
His  food  was  hominy  or  potatoes  ; his  drink  vinegar  and 
water,  of  which  he  was  fond.  He  had  neither  tea  nor 
coffee,  and  seldom  tasted  wine  or  spirits.  And  this  mode- 
ration  was  shown  at  a time  when  he  held  in  his  possession 
a power  from  Governor  Rutledge,  to  impress  and  appropri- 
ate  whatever  he  thought  necessary  to  his  purposes.*  The 
charge  against  him  of  cruelty  and  plunder  is  perfectly  ab' 
surd,  and  rests  on  the  vague  assertions  of  an  enemy,  who 
specifies  no  offence  and  offers  no  sort  of  evidence.  It  was 
but  natural  that  such  charges  should  be  made  by  an  aston- 
ished and  disappointed  foe — natural  that  the  conqueror 
should  ascribe  to  any  but  the  right  cause  the  reluctance  of 
a people  to  submit  to  a monstrous  usurpation,  and  their 
anxiety  to  avail  themselves,  by  the  presence  of  a favorite 
leader,  of  a principle  and  prospects  to  which  their  affections 
were  really  surrendered.  Could  the  British  commanders 
in  America  have  really  been  brought  to  admit  that  the 
affections  of  the  people  were  not  with  their  sovereign,  the 
war  must  have  found  a finish  much  sooner  than  it  did. 
Their  hopes  were  built  upon  this  doubt ; and  hence  their 
anxiety  to  show  the  coercive  measures  of  the  chieftains  by 
whom  this  control,  adverse  to  their  wishes,  was  maintained 
over  the  minds  of  the  people.  The  great  influence  of  Ma- 
rion was  due  to  other  acts.  It  was  by  the  power  of  love, 


® James’  Memoir,  p.  122 
7 . 


146 


LIFE  OF  MAR  ON. 


and  not  of  terror,  that  he  managed  his  followers.  They 
loved  him  for  himself,  and  loved  his  cause  for  their  country 
His  rare  command  of  temper,  his  bland,  affectionate  man- 
ner, his  calm  superiority,  and  that  confidence  in  his  courage 
and  conduct,  as  a leader,  without  which  militiamen  are 
never  led  to  victory, — these  were  the  sources  of  his  influ- 
ence over  them,  and  of  their  successes  against  the  enemy. 

If  was  through  these  that  he  “ carried  terror  to  the  very 
gates  of  Charleston.”  We  shall  see  indeed,  that,  under 
Marion,  the  militia  were  never  conducted  to  defeat. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  causes  of  his  victories, 
first  over  the  minds  of  his  people,  and  next  over  their  foes, 
the  British  found  it  necessary  that  his  influence  should  be 
restrained,  and  his  farther  progress  arrested.  Cornwallis, 
as  we  have  seen,  was  willing  to  “ give  a good  deal  to  have 
him  taken.”  Tarleton  is  affectionately  invoked  to  this  pleas^ 
ant  duty,  by  the  sincere  hope  that  he  would  “ get  at  Mr 
Marion.”  This,  however  desirable,  was  no  easy  matter. 
Marion  was  a very  “ will  o’  the  wisp”  in  military  affairs, 
almost  as  difficult  to  find,  at  times,  by  his  own  followers, 
as  by  the  enemy.  He  was  the  true  model  of  a partisan 
in  a country,  like  ours,  of  swamp  and  thicket ; leading  the 
pursuing  foe,  like  Puck,  “ through  bog  and  through  briar,” 
till  he  wearied  out  his  patience,  exhausted  his  resources, 
and  finally  laid  him  open  for  defeat.  He  seldom  lingered 
long  in  any  one  spot,  changing  his  ground  frequently,  with 
Indian  policy ; his  scouts,  well  chosen,  were  always  on  the 
alert ; and, by  constant  activity  and  enterprise,  he  not  only 
baffled  pursuit,  but  deprived  retreat  of  its  usual  mortifica- 
tions. The  employment  which  he  thus  gave  his  men,  not 
only  hardened  them  against  every  turn  of  fortune,  but  kept 
them  always  in  good  spirits. 

Tarleton  rose  from  a sick  bed  to  undertake  his  capture. 
He  had  been  confined  for  some  time  in  Charleston  with 


LIFE  OF  MARION.  l<±  7 

fever.  The  first  moment  of  convalescence  was  seized  upon 
for  carrying  into  effect  the  wishes  of  Cornwallis  He  con- 
certed his  plans  before  he  left  the  city.  His  legion,  which 
was  at  Camden,  were  instructed  to  meet  him,  while  with  a 
troop  of  horse  he  set  forward  for  some  point  upon  the 
Wateree.  From  this  point  he  was  to  descend  the  Wateree 
in  quest  of  our  partisan.  His  plan  of  pursuit,  as  furnished 
by  his  own  pen,  will  be  seen  hereafter.  Marion  was  not 
unadvised  of  his  progress,  hut,  either  from  the  rapidity  of 
Tarleton’s  movements,  or  some  error  in  the  report  of  his 
scouts,  he  failed  of  success  in  the  object  which  he  aimed 
at.  This  was  the  capture  of  Tarleton,  while,  with  his  troop 
of  horse,  he  was  on  his  way  to  join  the  legion.  With  this 
object  he  pressed  his  march  for  Nelson’s  Ferry  on  the 
Santee,  and  placed  his  men  in  ambush  in  the  river  swamp. 
He  arrived  too  late.  Tarleton  had  already  crossed  fully  two 
days  before.  Marion  passed  the  river  in  pursuit,  advanc- 
ing with  some  earnestness  on  the  footsteps  of  his  foe,  still 
under  the  impression  that  Tarleton  was  only  in  command 
of  the  small  troop  with  which  he  had  marched  from 
Charleston.  But  the  British  commander  had  already 
effected  the  junction  with  his  legion,  and  was  at  hand  in 
greater  force  than  our  partisan  dreamed  of.  At  night,  hav- 
ing reached  a strong  position  in  the  woods,  Marion  was 
taking  his  usual  precautions  for  making  his  camp.  He  was 
suddenly  struck  with  a great  light,  seemingly  at  the  plan- 
tation of  General  Richardson.  This  awakened  his  anxie- 
ties, and  led  him  at  once  to  suspect  the  pre«ence  cf  his  en- 
emy in  that  quarter.  The  progress  of  the  British  was  thus 
usually  distinguished  when  they  reached  a settlement  of  the 
patriots.  The  suspicions  of  Marion  were  soon  confirmed 
by  the  arrival  of  Colonel  Richardson,  from  whom  he  learn- 
ed that  Tarleton  was  really  at  the  plantation,  the  fires  of 
which  he  saw,  in  force  with  his  whole  legion,  and  two  field- 


LIFE  OF  M A K I 0 N . 


148 

pieces.  The  strength  of  the  British  was  double  his  own, 
and,  to  increase  his  anxieties,  it  was  discovered  that  one  of 
his  men, — probably  one  of  the  late  converts,  who  had  join- 
ed the  ranks  after  the  defeat  of-Tynes, — had  deserted  to 
the  enemy.  In  command  of  a force  so  superior,  and  in 
possession  of  a guide  well  acquainted  with  the  country, 
Tarleton  was  too  strong  to  be  withstood.  The  position  of 
Marion  was  no  longer  safe.  He  at  once  fell  back,  and 
crossing  in  silence  and  darkness  a dense  and  gloomy  swamp 
of  vast  extent,  called  the  “ wood-yard,”  halted  on  Jack’s 
creek,  a distance  of  six  miles  from  his  late  encampment. 
This  post  was  temporarily  a secure  one.  Tarleton,  mean- 
while, was  conducted  faithfully  by  the  deserter  into  the 
“wood-yard,” — but  the  bird  had  flown.  He  pressed  the 
pursuit  the  next  day,  with  that  hot  haste  by  which  he  was 
quite  as  much  distinguished  as  by  his  cruelties.  But  Ma- 
rion knew  his  foe,  and  had  already  changed  his  ground. 
Pushing  his  way  through  a wild  extent  of  country,  full 
of  bogs  and  swamps,  he  reached  Benbow’s  Ferry,  about 
ten  miles  above  Kingstree,  where,  taking  a strong  position, 
he  resolved  to  defend  himself.  The  place  was  one  with 
which  himself  and  men  were  familiar.  It  was  not  only  eli- 
gible in  itself,  commanding  the  passage  of  the  liver,  but  it 
was  one  in  which  defeat  was  not  necessarily  final.  It  had 
resources,  and  means  of  rally,  which  are  always  important 
considerations  to  a militia  command.  There  were  three 
difficult  passes,  through  the  swamp,  in  Marion’s  rear,  a* 
each  of  which,  if  driven  by  the  enemy,  his  men  could  make 
a stubborn  fight.  His  position  taken,  he  proceeded 
promptly  to  strengthen  its  natural  defences  by  art.  Trees 
were  felled  across  the  track,  and  the  post  so  improved  as 
to  reconcile  the  inequalities  of  his  own  with  the  pursuing 
force  of  Tarleton.  Had  the  latter  made  his  appearance,  as 
Marion  fully  hoped  and  expected,  the  fatal  rifles  of  the 


LIFE  ; F MARION. 


, l9 

“ Brigade”  thus  planted,  wou.  d have  very  quickly  mptied 
his  best  saddles.  But  the  ccmmander  of  the  legion  grew 
weary  of  the  chase,  at  the  very  moment  when  it  halted  to 
await  him.  Of  the  pursuit  he  has  given  us  a somewhat  vain- 
glorious description.  He  represents  himself  as  having 
been  nearly  successful,  by  means  of  his  great  adroitness 
and  the  excellence  of  his  strategem.  He  says — “ According 
to  the  reports  of  the  country,  General  Marion’s  numbers 
were  hourly  increasing,  which  induced  Lt.-Col.  Tarleton 
to  move  his  corps,  for  a short  time,  in  a very  compact 
body,  lest  the  Americans  should  gain  any  advantage  over 
patrols  or  detachments.  But  as  soon  as  he  found  that  the 
account  of  numbers  was  exaggerated,  and  that  the  enemy 
declined  an  engagement,  he  divided  his  corps  into  several 
small  parties,  publishing  intelligence  that  each  was  on 
patrol,  and  that  the  main  body  of  the  King’s  troops  had 
countermarched  to  Camden.  Notwithstanding  the  divi- 
sions scattered  throughout  the  country,  to  impose  upon  the 
enemy,  Lt.-Col.  Tarleton  took  care  that  no  detachment 
should  be  out  of  the  reach  of  assistance ; and  that  the 
whole  formed  after  dark  every  evening  a solid  and  vigilant 
corps  during  the  night.  This  stratagem  had  not  been  em- 
ployed more  than  three  days,  before  General  Marion  was 
on  the  point  of  falling  a sacrifice  to  it.  He  advanced  on 
the  10th  before  day,  with  five  hundred  militia,  to  attack 
Lt.-Col.  Tarleton  (who  had  notice  of  his  approach),  and 
arrived  within  two  miles  of  his  post,  when  a person  of  the 
name  of  Richardson  discovered  to  him  his  misconception 
of  the  British  force.” 

But,  as  we  have  seen,  Marion’s  advance  upon  Tarleton 
was  only  the  continuation  of  the  pursuit  which1  he  began 
under  the  impression  that  the  latter  was  still  forcing  his 
wray  to  Camden  with  the  small  force  with  which  he  had 
crossed  the  Santee.  Of  the  descent  of  the  legion  fhona  anove, 


150 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


he  knew  nothing,  and  the  three  days’  pursuit  of  Tarleton 
were  wasted  upon  him.  The  caution  of  the  British 
Colonel  in  all  this  time  might  have  been  spared.  It  influ- 
enced the  course  of  Marion  in  no  respect.  We  have  seen 
that,  when  the  latter  discovered  his  enemy,  it  was  before 
day  had  closed,  and  not  just  before  day.  We  have  also 
seen  that  Tarleton’s  own  bonfires  had  already  revealed  the 
secret  of  his  presence,  in  strength,  to  his  wary  antagonist. 
If  Col.  Richardson  had  never  entered  the  camp  of  Marion, 
the  blazing  dwellings  of  the  Richardson  family  would  have 
led  to  such  precautions,  on  the  side  of  the  partisan,  as  must 
have  effectually  baffled  the  objects  of  the  British  Colonel. 
This  indulgence  in  the  usual  British  passion  for  burning  the 
homesteads  of  women  and  children,  which  Tarleton  could 
not  resist,  even  though  his  immediate  aim  required  the 
utmost  watchfulness  and  secrecy,  at  once  revealed  to 
Marion  not  only  that  his  enemy  was  there,  but  that  he  was 
there,  with  a force,  in  the  strength  of  which  he  had  the 
utmost  confidence.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  a small 
detachment,  a scouting  party  of  horse,  a troop  sent  out  for 
intelligence, — such  as  the  British  Colonel  represents  his 
several  parties  to  have  been,  when  his  force  was  broken  up 
in  detail,  to  beguile  the  partisan, — would  be  likely  to  com- 
mit such  excesses  as  to  draw  the  eye  of  the  country  sud- 
denly upon  them,  at  a time,  too,  when  a wary  adversary 
was  within  two  miles  -with  a force  of  five  hundred  men. 

Tarleton  proceeds  : “ A pursuit  was  immediately  com- 

menced, and  continued  for  seven  hours,  through  swamps 
and  defiles.  Some  prisoners  fell  into  the  possession  of  the 
legion  dragoons,  who  gained  ground  very  fast,  and  must 
soon  have  brought  the  enemy  to  action,  when  an  express 
from  Earl  Cornwallis,  who  had  followed  the  tracks  of  the 
march,  recalled  Lt.-Col.  Tarleton.” 

Such  is  the  British  narrative.  We  have  reason  to  think 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


151 


it  iaulty  in  several  respects.  We  doubt  that  it  was  the 
express  of  Earl  Cornwallis  that  arrested  the  pursuit  of  our 
Legionary  Colonel.  We  are  disposed  to  ascribe  it  to  his 
own  weariness  of  the  game.  The  dispatch  of  Cornwallis 
to  which  he  refers,  was  dated  at  Winnsboro’  on  the  9th 
of  the  month.  It  was  on  the  night  of  the  10th,  as  we  see 
by  Tarleton’s  own  statement,  that  he  commenced  the 
close  and  earnest  pursuit  of  Marion.  The  distance  from 
Winnsboro’  to  the  ‘ wood  yard,’  even  allowing  that  the 
nstincts  and  information  of  the  express  should  bring  him 
directly  upon  the  trail  of  the  Legion,  would  have  employed 
him  fully  two  days  to  overcome.  These  two  days  would 
have  brought  him  to  the  close  of  the  twelfth,  up  to  which 
period,  had  Tarleton  continued  the  chase,  he  might  have 
enjoyed  the  satisfaction  of  shaking  hands  with  his  antago- 
nist  in  his  defences  at  Benbow’s  Ferry.  There,  at  the  first 
proper  position  in  w'hich  he  might,  with  any  hopes  of  suc- 
cess, oppose  his  adversary,  had  Marion  taken  his  stand 
There,  having  entrenched  himself,  he  was  busy  in  bring 
ing  together  his  forces.  “ Had  Tarleton,”  says  Judge 
James,  “proceeded  with  his  jaded  horses  to  Benbow’s,  he 
could  have  exposed  his  force  to  such  sharp  shooting  as  he 
rad  not  yet  experienced,  and  that  in  a place  where  he 
eould  not  have  acted  with  either  his  artillery  or  cavalry.” 

But  Tarleton  had  tired  of  the  adventure.  After  a pur- 
suit of  twenty-five  miles,  he  found  his  progress  arrested  by 
a swamp,  wide  and  deep,  through  which  his  eye  could 
discern  no  beaten  road.  But  this  should  have  discouraged 
no  resolute  commander,  having  his  enemy  before  him.  Ma- 
rion had  already  preceded  him  in  the  passage,  and  was  then 
within  ten  miles,  awaiting  his  approach.  He  could  have 
reached  him  in  three  hours,  and  four  might  have  sufficed 
for  the  march  and  conflict.  The  express  of  Cornwallis 
might  have  yielded  that  time,  since  it  was  not  on  the  ne 


132 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


cessity  of  the  Earl  that  he  had  written.  Tarleton  i'.isimi 
ates  that  the  sole  desire  of  Marion  was  to  save  himself. 
Now,  one  fact  will  suffice  to  show  the  incorrectness  of  this 
notion.  For  a distance  of  twelve  miles  on  his  retreat,  the 
course  of  the  partisan  skirted  the  south  branch  of  Jjlack 
River.  He  could,  at  any  time  and  in  a few  minutes,  have 
plunged  into  it,  and  no  regular  body  of  cavalry  could  have 
followed  him.  Besides,  so  close,  we  are  told,  was  the  pur 
suit,  that  the  dragoons  were  taking  prisoners.  The  ene^ 
my  must  have  been  overtaken,  but  for  the  express.  Under 
such  circumstances  it  seems  strange  that  Tarleton  should 
show  such  singular  deference  to  the  express  as  to  forbear 
the  blow,  when  his  sabre  was  already  uplifted,  and  one  of 
his  most  troublesome  enemies  was  actually  beneath  it.  It 
is  scarcely  possible  that,  with  his  dragoons  so  close  on  the 
heels  of  the  fugitives  and  informed  by  prisoners  of  the 
proximity  of  his  foe,  he  should  not  have  heard  that  he  was 
finally  posted  and  in  waiting  for  him.  We  will  suppose, 
however,  that  he  did  not.  He  turned  the  head  of  his  col- 
umn at  the  very  moment  when  his  object  was  attainable. 
Popular  tradition  represents  him  as  expressing  himself  dis- 
couraged at  the  sight  of  Ox  swamp,  and  exclaiming,  u Come, 
my  boys  ! let  us  go  back.  We  will  soon  find  the  Game 

Cock  (meaning  Sumter),  but  as  for  this  d d Swamp-fox , 

the  devil  himself  could  not  catch  him.”  From  this  speech 
of  Tarleton,  we  are  given  to  understand  that  the  two  popu- 
lar names  were  derived,  by  which  Sumter  and  Marion  were 
ever  after  known  by  their  followers. 

Tarleton  gained  nothing  by  the  pursuit  of  his  wily  anta- 
gonist. Marion  remained  in  perfect  mastery  over  the  whole 
territory  which  he  had  been  wont  to  overrun,  with  a strength 
somewhat  increased  by  the  fact  that  he  had  succeeded  in 
baffling  and  eluding  the  attempts  of  one  who  had  hitherto 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


153 


been  successful  in  all  his  enterprises.  Fi  )m  this  moment 
the  career  of  Tarleton  ceased  to  be  fortunate.  His  failure, 
to  capture  Marion  was  the  first  in  a long  train  of  disappoint- 
ments and  disasters,  some  of  which  were  also  attended  by 
the  most  disgraceful  and  humbling-  defeats. 


7* 


CHAPTER  X. 


Marion  attempts  Georgetown — Horry  defeats  Merritt  — Melton 

defeated  by  Barfield — Gabriel  Marion  taken  by  the  Tories  and 

murdered — Marion  retires  to  Snow’s  Island. 

Failing  to  overtake  Marion  in  his  retreat,  and  unwilling 
to  press  upon  him  in  his  stronghold,  Tarleton  turned  the 
heads  of  his  columns  in  the  search  after  the  other  famous 
partisan  of  Carolina,  General  Sumter.  This  gentleman, 
after  the  surprise  and  dispersion  of  his  force,  which  had 
followed  so  closely  the  defeat  of  Gates,  had  fallen  back, 
with  the  wreck  of  his  command,  to  the  neighborhood  of 
the  mountains.  But,  no  sooner  was  it  understood  that  a 
second  Continental  army  was  on  its  march  for  Carolina, 
than  he  emerged  from  his  retreat,  and  renewed  his  enter- 
prises with  as  much  activity  as  ever.  It  was  to  direct  his 
arms  against  this  enemy,  and  to  restrain  his  incursions,  that 
Tarleton  was  recalled  from  the  pursuit  of  Marion  by  Earl 
Cornwallis. 

The  force  under  Sumter  had  increased  to  about  five 
hundred  men  when  he  approached,  and  took  post  within 
twenty-eight  miles  of  the  encampment  of  Cornwallis  at 
Winnsboro’.  This  approach,  particularly  as  Sumter,  un- 
like Marion,  was  apt  to  linger  some  time  in  a favorite 
position,  induced  the  British  commander  to  attempt  his  sur- 
prise. Col.  Wemyss  was  accordingly  sent  against  him  with 
a strong  body  of  British  infantry.  But  Wemyss  was  de- 
feated, severely  wounded  himself,  and  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  Americans.  The  failure  of  Wemyss,  and  the  audacity 
of  Sumter,  provoked  the  anxiety  and  indignation  of  Corn* 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


155 


wallis.  Tarleton  promptly  seconded  the  wishes  of  his  su 
perior,  and  rapidly  advanced  upon  his  adversary.  Sumter, 
hearing  of  his  approach,  and  with  a force  very  far  superior 
to  his  own,  commenced  his  retreat,  and  threw  the  Tygei 
River  between  himself  and  his  pursuer.  Apprehensive 
only  of  losing  his  prey,  and  not  at  all  doubtful  of  his  vic- 
tory, Tarleton  continued  the  pursuit  with  about  four  hun- 
dred mounted  men,  leaving  the  main  body  of  his  infantry 
and  artillery  to  follow.  As  soon  as  Sumter  discovered  that 
the  whole  of  the  British  army  wras  not  at  his  heels,  he  dis- 
continued his  flight,  and  waited  for  his  enemy  at  the  house 
and  farm  of  one  Blackstock,  on  the  banks  of  the  Tyger. 
Here  an  action  followed,  in  which  the  British  were  defeated 
Tarleton  lost  ninety-two  slain  and  one  hundred  wounded. 
The  Americans  lost  three  men  slain  and  as  many  wounded. 
But  among  the  latter  was  their  commander.  The  wound 
of  Sumter  was  in  the  breast,  and  a very  severe  one.  He 
was  wrapped  up  in  the  raw  hide  of  a bullock,  suspended 
between  two  horses,  and,  guarded  by  a hundred  faithful 
followers,  was  conveyed  in  safety  to  North  Carolina,  where, 
unhappily,  he  lay  for  some  time  totally  incapacitated  from 
active  performance. 

This  event  was  preceded  and  followed  by  others  quite  as 
encouraging  to  the  American  cause.  The  battle  of  King’s 

o o o 

Mountain  took  place  on  the  7th  October,  1780,  in  which 
the  British,  under  Major  Ferguson,  experienced  a total  de- 
feat; Ferguson  being  slain,  and  the  killed,  wounded  and 
captured  of  His  army,  amounting  to  eleven  hundred  men. 
Meanwhile,  the  example  of  Marie n and  Sumter  had  arous- 
ed the  partisan  spirit  in  numerous  other  places  ; and  every 
distinct  section  of  the  country  soon  produced  its  particulai 
leader,  under  whom  the  Whigs  embodied  themselves,  strik- 
ing wherever  an  opportunity  offered  of  cutting  off  the  Bri- 
tish and  Tories  in  detail,  and  retiring  to  places  of  safety 


4 


156 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


or  dispersing  in  groups,  on  the  approach  of  a superior  force 
This  species  of  warfare  was,  of  all  kinds,  that  which  was 
most  likely  to  try  the  patience,  and  baffle  the  progress,  of 
the  British  commander.  He  could  overrun  the  country, 
but  he  made  no  conquests.  His  great  armies  passed  over 
the  land  unquestioned,  but  had  no  sooner  withdrawn,  than 
his  posts  were  assailed,  his  detachments  cut  off,  his  sup- 
plies arrested,  and  the  Tories  once  more  overawed  by  their 
fierce  and  fearless  neighbors.  Marion’s  brigade,  in  parti- 
cular, constantly  in  motion, — moving  by  night  as  frequently 
as  by  day,  singularly  well  informed  by  its  scouts,  and  ap- 
pearing at  the  least  expected  moment, — was  always  ready 
to  prevent  the  gathering,  into  force  and  strength,  of  the 
loyalists.  And  this  activity  was  shown,  and  this  warfare 
waged,  at  a time,  when,  not  only  was  the  State  without  an 
army,  without  any  distinct  embodiment  of  its  own,  or  of 
its  confederates, — but  when  it  was  covered  everywhere 
with  strong  and  well  appointed  posts  of  the  enemy.  The 
position  of  Earl  Cornwallis  at  Winnshoro’,  completed 
his  chain  of  posts  from  Georgetown  to  Augusta,  in  a circle, 
the  centre  of  which  would  have  been  about  Beaufort,  in 
South  Carolina,  equidistant  from  Charleston  and  Savannah. 
These  posts  consisted  of  Georgetown,  Camden,  Winnsbo- 
ro’,  Ninety-Six  and  Augusta.  Within  this  circle  was  an 
interior  chain,  at  the  distance  of  half  the  radius,  consist- 
ing of  Fort  Watson  on  the  road  to  Camden,  Motte’s  house, 
and  Granby  on  the  Congaree.  Dorchester  and  Orange- 
burgh,  on  the  road  both  to  Ninety-Six  and  Granby,  were 
fortified  as  posts  of  rest  and  deposit,  on  the  line  of  commu- 
nication ; as  was  Monk’s  Corner,  or  Biggin  Church,  and 
some  other  small  posts  on  that  to  Camden.  These  posts 
were  all  judiciously  chosen,  both  for  arming  the  country  and 
obtaining  subsistence.* 

* Johnson’s  Greene,  vol.  i. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


157 


Penetrating  between  these  posts,  and  snatching  their 
prey,  or  smiting  the  enemy’s  detachments,  under  the  very 
jaws  of  their  cannon,  our  partisans  succeeded  in  embodying 
public  opinion,  through  the  very  sense  of  shame,  against 
their  enemies.  The  courage  of  the  Whigs  was  ennobled, 
and  their  timidity  rebuked,  when  they  beheld  such  a dar- 
ing spirit,  and  one  so  crowned  by  frequent  successes,  in 
such  petty  numbers.  The  esprit  de  corps , which  these 
successes,  and  this  spirit,  awakened  in  the  brigade  of  Mari- 
on, necessarily  imparted  itself  to  the  region  of  country  in 
which  he  operated  ; and  the  admiration  which  he  inspired 
in  the  friendly,  and  the  fear  which  he  taught  to  the  ad- 
verse, uniting  in  their  effects,  brought  equally  the  faithful 
and  the  doubtful  to  his  ranks.  From  the  moment  that  he 
eluded  the  arts,  and  baffled  the  pursuit  of  Tarleton,  the 
people  of  that  tract  of  country,  on  a line  stretching  from 
Camden, across, to  the  mouth  of  Black  Creek  on  the  Pedee, 
including  generally  both  banks  of  the  Wateree,  Santee  and 
Pedee,  were  now  (excepting  Harrison’s  party  on  Lynch’s 
Creek)  either  ready,  or  preparing  to  join  him.  Under  these 
auspices,  with  his  brigade  increasing,  Marion  began  to  pre- 
pare for  new  enterprises. 

The  British  post  at  Georgetown  was  one  of  considerable 
strength  and  importance.  It  was  of  special  importance  to 
Marion.  From  this  place  he  procured,  or  expected  to  pro- 
cure, his  supplies  of  salt,  clothing,  and  ammunition.  Of 
these  commodities  he  was  now  grievously  in  want.  To 
surprise  Georgetown  became  as  desirable  as  it  was  diffi- 
cult. Marion  determined  to  attempt  it.  It  was  only  by  a 
surprise  that  he  could  hope  to  be  successful,  and  he  made 
his  plans  accordingly.  They  were  unfortunate,  and  the 
event  was  particularly  and  personally  distressing  to  him- 
self. To  expedite  his  schemes,  he  crossed  Black  river, 
at  a retired  place,  called  Potato  Ferry,  and  proceeded  by 


158 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


the  “ Gap-way”  towards  tire  object  of  desire.  Three 
miles  from  the  town  there  is  an  inland  swamp,  called 
“ White’s  Bay  ” which,  discharging  itself  by  two  mouths, 
the  one  into  Black  river,  the  other  into  Sampit,  completely 
insulates  the  town,  which  stands  on  the  north  side  of  the 
latter  river  near  its  junction  with  Winyaw  bay.  Over  the 
creek  which  empties  into  the  Sampit,  there  is  a bridge,  two 
miles  from  Georgetown.  In  the  rear  of  these  swamps, 
Marion  concealed  himself  with  the  main  body  of  his  force, 
sending  out  two  parties  to  reconnoitre.  One  ofthese  parties 
was  commanded  by  Col.  P.  Horry,  the  oilier  by  Capt. 
Melton.  These  officers  both  encountered  the  enemy,  but 
they  were  not  both  equally  fortunate  in  the  result.  Horry 
may  be  allowed  to  tell  his  own  story.  “ I was  sent,”  he 
writes,  “ by  Gen.  Marion  to  reconnoitre  Georgetown.  I 
proceeded  with  a guide  through  the  woods  all  night.  At 
the  dawn  of  day,  I drew  near  the  town.  I laid  an  ambus- 
cade, with  thirty  men  and  three  officers,  near  the  road. 
About  sunrise  a chair  appeared  with  two  ladies  escorted  by 
two  British  officers.  I was  ready  in  advance  with  an  offi- 
cer to  cut  them  off,  but  reflecting  that  they  might  escape, 
and  alarm  the  town,  which  would  prevent  my  taking  greater 
numbers,  I desisted.  The  officers  and  chair  halted  very 
near  me,  but  soon  the  chair  went  on,  and  the  officers  gal- 
lopped  in  retrograde  into  the  town.  Our  party  continued 
in  ambush,  until  10  o’clock  A.  M. 

“Nothing  appearing,  and  men  and  horses  having  eaten 
nothing  for  thirty-six  hours,  we  were  hungered,  and  re- 
tired to  a plantation  of  my  quarter-master’s,  a Mr.  White, 
not  far  distant.  There  a curious  scene  took  place.  As 

soon  as  I entered  the  house four  ladies  appeared, 

two  of  whom  where  Mrs.  White  and  her  daughter.  I was 
asked  what  I wanted.  I answered,  food,  refreshment. 
The  other  two  ladies  were  those  whom  I had  seen  escort- 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


159 


ed  by  the  British  officers.  They  seemed  greatly  agitated, 
and  begged  most  earnestly  that  I would  go  away,,  for  the 
family  was  very  poor,  had  no  provisions  of  any  sort, — that 
I knew  that  they  were  Whigs,  and  surely  would  not  add  to 
their  distress.  So  pressing  were  they  for  my  immediate- 
ly leaving  the  plantation,  that  I thought  they  had  more  in 
view  than  they  pretended.  I kept  my  eye  on  Mrs. 
White,  and  saw  she  had  a smiling  countenance,  but 
said  nothing.  Soon  she  left  the  room,  and  I left  it  also  and 
went  into  the  piazza,  laid  my  cap,  sword  and  pistols  on  the 
long  bench,  and  walked  the  piazza ; — when  I discovered 
Mrs.  White  behind  the  house  chimney  beckoning  me.  I 
got  to  her  undiscovered  by  the  young  ladies,  when  she  said  : 
‘ Colonel  Horry,  be  on  your  guard  ; these  two  young  ladies, 
Miss  F — and  M — , are  just  from  Georgetown  ; they  are 
much  frightened,  and  I believe  the  British  are  leaving  it 
and  may  soon  attack  you.  As  to  provisions,  which  they 
make  such  a rout  about,  I have  plenty  for  your  men  and 
horses  in  yonder  barn,  but  you  must  affect  to  take  them  by 
force.  Hams,  bacon,  rice,  and  fodder,  are  there.  You 
must  insist  on  the  key  of  the  barn,  and  threaten  to 
split  the  door  with  an  axe  if  not  immediately  opened.’  I 
begged  her  to  say  no  more,  for  I was  well  acquainted  with 
all  such  matters — to  leave  the  ladies  and  everything  else 
to  my  management.  Sl^  said  ‘Yes;  but  do  not  ruin 
us : be  artful  and  cunning,  or  Mr.  White  may  be  hanged 
and  all  our  houses  burnt  aver  our  heads.’  We  both 
secretly  returned,  she  to  the  room  where  the  young  ladies 
were,  and  I to  the  piazza  I had  just  left.”*  This  little 
narrative  will  give  some  idea  of  the  straits  to  which  the 
good  whig  matrons  of  Carolina  were  sometimes  reduced  in 
those  days.  But  no  time  was  allowed  Horry  to  extort  the 


MS.  Life  of  Horry  by  himself,  pp.  84-87. 


160 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


provisions  as  suggested.  He  had  scarcely  got  to  the 
piazza  when  his  videttes  gave  the  alarm.  Two  shots 
warned  him  of  the  approach  of  the  foe,  and  forgetting  that 
his  cap,  sabre  and  pistols,  lay  on  the  long  bench  on  the 
piazza,  Horry  mounted  his  horse,  left  the  enclosure,  and 
rushed  into  the  melee.  The  British  were  seventeen  in 
number,  well  mounted,  and  commanded  by  a brave  fellow 
named  Merritt.  The  dragoons,  taken  by  surprise,  turned 
in  flight,  and,  smiting  at  every  step,  the  partisans  pursued 
them  with  fatal  earnestness.  But  two  men  are  reported  to 
have  escaped  death  or  captivity,  and  they  were  their  cap- 
tain and  a sergeant.  It  was  in  approaching  to  encounter 
Merritt  that  Horry  discovered  that  he  was  weaponless. 
“ My  officers,”  says  he,  “ in  succession,  came  up  with 
Captain  Merritt,  who  was  in  the  rear  of  his  party,  urging 
them  forward.  They  engaged  him.  He  was  a brave 
fellow.  Baxter,  with  pistols,  fired  at  his  breast,  and  missing 
him,  retired ; Postell  and  Greene,  with  swords,  engaged 
him  ; both  were  beaten  off.  Greene  nearly  lost  his  head 
His  buckskin  breeches  were  cut  through  several  inches  . . . 
I almost  blush  to  say  that  this  one  British  officer  beat  off 
three  Americans.”*  The  honor  of  the  day  was  decidedly 
with  Merritt,  though  he  was  beaten.  He  was  no  doubt  a 
far  better  swordsman  than  our  self-taught  cavalry,  with 
broadswords  wrought  out  of  mill  saws.  Merritt  abandon- 
ed his  horse,  and  escaped  to  a neighboring  swamp,  from 
whence,  at  midnight,  he  got  into  Georgetown. f Two  of 

* MS.  of  Horry,  p.  89. 

t Weems,  speaking  for  Horry,  tells  us  that  he  met  with  Cap- 
tain Merritt  after  the  war  in  New  York,  who  recognized  him,  and 
told  him  that  he  had  never  had  such  afright  in  all  his  life  as 
upon  that  occasion.  “ Will  you  believe  me,  sir,”  said  he,  “ when 
I assure  you  that  ! went  out  that  morning  with  my  locks  o. 
as  bright  an  auburn  as  ever  curled  upon  the  forehead  of  youth, 
and  by  the  time  I had  crawled  out  of  the  swamp  into  Georgetown 
that  night,  they  were  as  grey  as  a badger  !” 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


1P1 


Horry’s  prisoners  proved  to  be  American  sold  ers ; “ the 
sergeant  belonged  to  the  3d  Regiment  of  South  Carolina 
Continentals,  and  a drummer  formerly  belonged  to  my  own 
Regiment  (the  5th.)  The  drummer  was  cruelly  wounded 
on  the  head  ; the  sergeant  was  of  Virginia,  and  wounded 
on  the  arm.  They  said  they  had  enlisted  from  the  Prison 
Ship  to  have  a chance  of  escaping  and  joining  their  country- 
men ljti  arms,”*  and  would  have  done  so  that  day  but  that 
the  British  captain  was  in  the  rear,  and  they  dared  not. 
Horry  rejoined  Marion  in  safety  with  his  prisoners. 

Captain  Melton  was  not  so  fortunate.  He  came  in 
contact  with  a party  of  Tories,  much  larger  than  his  own 
force,  who  were  patrolling,  under  Captain  Barfield,  near 
White’s  Bridge.  A sharp,  but  short  action  followed,  in 
which  Melton  was  compelled  to  retreat.  But  Gabriel 
Marion,  a nephew  of  the  General,  had  his  horse  shot  under 
him,  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Tories.  As  soon  as  he 
was  recognized  he  was  put  to  death,  no  respite  allowed, 
no  pause,  no  prayer.  His  name  was  fatal  to  him.  The 
loss  was  severely  felt  by  his  uncle,  who,  with  no  family  or 
children  of  his  own,  had  lavished  the  greater  part  of  his 
affections  upon  this  youth,  of  whom  high  expectations  had 
been  formed,  and  who  had  already  frequently  distinguished 
himself  by  his  gallantry  and  conduct.  He  had  held  a 
lieutenancy  in  the  Second  South  Carolina  Regiment,  and 
was  present  at  the  battle  of  Fort  Moultrie.  Subsequently, 
he  had  taken  part  in  most  of  the  ac  ventures  of  his  uncle. 
Marion  felt  his  privation  keenly  ; but  he  consoled  him- 
self by  saying  that  “ he  should  not  mourn  for  him.  The 
youth  was  virtuous,  and  had  fallen  in  the  cause  of  his 
country  !”  But  this  event,  with  some  other  instances  of 
brutality  and  murder  on  the  part  of  the  Tories,  happening 


MS.  of  Horry. 


162 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


about  this  time,  gave  a more  savage  character  than  ever 
to  the  warfare  which  ensued.  Motives  of  private  anger 
and  personal  revenge  embittered  and  increased  the  usual 
ferocities  of  civil  war  ; and  hundreds  of  dreadful  and  des- 
perate tragedies  gave  that  peculiar  aspect  to  the  struggle, 
which  led  Greene  to  say  that  the  inhabitants  pursued  each 
other  rather  like  wild  beasts  than  like  men.  In  the 
Cheraw  district,  on  the  Pedee,  above  the  line  where 
Marion  commanded,  the  Whig  and  Tory  warfare,  of  which 
we  know  but  little  beyond  this  fact,  was  one  of  utter  ex- 
termination. The  revolutionary  struggle  in  Carolina  was 
of  a sort  utterly  unknown  in  any  other  part  of  the  Union. 

The  attempt  upon  Georgetown  was  thus  defeated.  The 
British  had  taken  the  alarm,  and  were  now  in  strength, 
and  in  a state  of  vigilance  and  activity,  which  precluded 
the  possibility  of  surprise.  Marion’s  wishes,  therefore, 
with  regard  to  this  place,  were  deferred  accordingly  to  a 
more  auspicious  season.  He  retired  to  Snow’s  Island, 
where  he  made  his  camp.  This  place  acquired  large 
celebrity  as  the  “ camp  of  Marion.”  To  this  day  it  is 
pointed  out  with  this  distinguishing  title,  and  its  tradition- 
ary honors  insisted  upon.  It  was  peculiarly  eligible  for 
his  purposes,  furnishing  a secure  retreat,  a depbt  for  his 
arms,  ammunition,  prisoners  and  invalids — difficult  of 
access,  easily  guarded,  and  contiguous  to  the  scenes  of  his 
most  active  operations.  “ Snow’s  Island”  lies  at  the  con- 
fluence of  Lynch’s  Creek  and  the  Pedee.  On  the  east 
flows  the  latter  river  ; on  the  west,  Clark’s  Creek,  issuing 
from  Lynch’s,  and  a stream  navigable  for  small  vessels  ; on 
the  north  lies  Lynch’s  Creek,  wide  and  deep,  but  nearly 
choked  by  rafts  of  logs  and  refuse  timber.  The  island, 
high  river  swamp,  was  spacious,  and,  like  all  the  Pedee 
river  swamp  of  that  day,  abounded  in  live  stock  and  pro- 
vision Thick  woods  covered  the  elevated  tracts,  dense 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


163 


cane-brakes  the  lower,  and  here  and  there  the  eye  rested 
upon  a cultivated  spot,  in  maize,  which  the  invalids  and 
convalescents  were  wont  to  tend. 

Here  Marion  made  his  fortress.  Having  secured  all  the 
boats  of  the  neighborhood,  he  chose  such  as  he  needed, 
and  destroyed  the  rest.  Where  the  natural  defences  of 
the  island  seemed  to  require  aid  from  art,  he  bestowed  it ; 
and,  by  cutting  away  bridges  and  obstructing  the  ordinary 
pathways  with  timber,  he  contrived  to  insulate,  as  much 
as  possible,  the  country  under  his  command.  From  this 
fortress,  his  scouting  parties  were  sent  forth  nightly  in  all 
directions.  Enemies  were  always  easy  to  be  found.  The 
British  maintained  minor  posts  at  Nelson’s  Ferry  and  Scott’s 
Lake,  as  well  as  Georgetown;  and  the  Tories  on  Lynch’s 
Creek  and  Little  Pedee  were  much  more  numerous,  if  less 
skilfully  conducted,  than  the  men  of  Marion. 

Marion’s  encampment  implied  no  repose,  no  forbear- 
ance of  the  active  business  of  war.  Very  far  from  it.  He 
was  never  more  dangerous  to  an  enemy,  than  when  he 
seemed  quietly  in  camp.  His  camp,  indeed,  was  frequently 
a lure,  by  which  to  tempt  the  Tories  into  unseasonable  ex- 
posure. The  post  at  Snow’s  Island  gave  him  particular 
facilities  for  this  species  of  warfare.  He  had  but  to  cross  a 
river,  and  a three  hours’  march  enabled  him  to  forage  in 
an  enemy’s  country.  Reinforcements  came  to  him  daily, 
and  it  was  only  nowr,  for  the  first  time,  that  his  command 
began  to  assume  the  appearance,  and  exhibit  the  force  of  a 
brigade.*  He  became  somewhat  bolder  in  consequence,  in 
the  tone  which  he  used  towards  the  Tories.  We  find  him 
at  this  period,')'  sending  forth  his  officers  with  orders  of  a 
peremptory  nature.  He  writes  to  Adjutant  Posted  : “You 
will  proceed  with  a party  down  Black  river,  from  Black 
Mingo  to  the  mouth  of  Pedee,  and  come  up  to  this  place 

* December  30,  1780. 

t Correspondence  of  Marion,  quoted  by  James. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


l«4 

You  will  lake  all  the  boats  and  canoes  from  Euhaney  up, 
and  impress  negroes  to  bring  them  to  camp— put  some  men 
to  see  them  safe.  You  will  take  every  horse,  to  Vhomso- 
ever  he  may  belong,  whether  friend  or  foe.  You  will  take 
all  arms  and  ammunition  for  the  use  of  our  service.  Yoi 
will  forbid  all  persons  from  carrying  any  grains,  stock,  c~ 
any  sort  of  provisions  to  Georgetown,  or  where  the  enemy 
may  get  them,  on  pain  of  being  held  as  traitors,  and  ene- 
mies to  the  Americans.  All  persons  who  will  not  join  you, 
you  will  take  prisoners  and  bring  to  me,  &c.” 

He  then  laid  the  country  under  martial  law,  the  proper 
measure  for  straitening  an  enemy,  and  compelling  sluggish 
and  doubtful  friends  to  declare  themselves.  In  this  pro- 
ceeding he  was  justified  by  the  authority  of  Governor 
Rutledge,  from  whom,  with  his  brigadier’s  commission,  he 
had  received  military  command  over  a region  of  country 
of  vast  extent,  which  the  indefatigable  partisan  contrived 
to  c-ompass  and  coerce,  if  not  altogether  to  command  and 
control.  Similar  orders  with  those  which  were  given  to 
Postell,  were  add"essed  to  Col.  P.  Horry  ; and  they  were 
both  dispatched  ; the  one,  as  we  have  seen,  between  Black 
and  Pedee  rivers,  the  other  to  Waccamaw  Creek.  Other 
parties  were  sent  out  in  other  quarters,  with  like  objects; 
and, with  the  whole  contiguous  country  thus  placed  under 
the  keenest  surveillance,  Marion  hailed  the  close  of  the 
year  in  his  swamp  fortress.  All  these  parties  were  more 
or  less  engaged  with  the  enemy,  at  different  periods,  while 
on  their  scouting  expeditions.  Several  small,  but  spirited 
achievements,  of  which  histc  ry  condescends  to  furnish  no 
details,  occurred  among  them,  in  which,  however,  the  par- 
tisans were  not  always  successful.  One  instance  may  be 
mentioned.  Lieutenant  Roger  Gordon  had  been  dispatched 
with  a small  party  to  patrol  on  Lynch’s  Creek.  He  suf- 
fered himself,  while  taking  refreshments  at  a house,  to  be 
surrounded  by  a party  of  Tories,  under  Capt.  Butler.  The 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


i65 


enemy  made  good  his  approaches  to  the  house,  and  jet  it 
on  fire.  Finding  himself  greatly  outnumbered,  and  per- 
ceiving that  resistance  would  be  useless,  Gordon  surren- 
dered upon  terms  ; but  as  soon  as  his  party  had  yielded 
up  their  arms,  they  were  murdered  to  a man  These 
bloody  events  were  accompanied  and  followed  by  others  of 
a like  character.  Nor  were  the  Tories  always,  or  exclu- 
sively guilty.  The  sanguinary  warfare  began  with  them, 
but  it  was  perpetuated  by  mutual  excesses.  Shortly  after 
the  murder  of  Gabriel  Marion,  the  person  who  was  sup- 
posed to  have  been  guilty  of  the  savage  crime,  was  taken 
prisoner  by  Horry.  While  on  the  road,  returning  to  the 
camp,  environed  by  his  guards,  the  prisoner  was  shot  down 
by  an  officer,  who  escaped  detection  under  cover  of  the 
night  Prisoners,  after  this,  were  seldom  made  on  either 
side,  where  the  Whigs  and  Tories  came  in  conflict.  No 
quarter  was  given.  Safety  lay  in  victory  alone,  and  the 
vanquished,  if  they  could  not  find  refuge  in  the  swamps, 
found  no  mercy  from  the  conqueror.  Even  where,  under 
tire  occasional  influence  of  a milder  mood,  or  milder  cap- 
tain, the  discomfited  were  admitted  to  present  mercy, 
there  was  still  no  security  for  their  lives.  There  were  a 
few  infuriated  men,  who  defied  subordination,  by  whom,  on 
both  sides,  the  unhappy  captives  were  sure  to  be  sacrificed. 

We  need  not  say,  in  behalf  of  Marion,  and  his  superior 
officers,  that,  where  he  or  they  commanded  in  person,  no 
countenance  was  given  to  these  bloody  principles  and  per- 
formances. Marion  was  notoriously  the  most  merciful  of 
enemies.  The  death  of  tne  prisoner  in  the  ranks  of  Hor- 
ry, though  the  unhappy  man  was  charged  with  the  murder 
of  his.  favorite  nephew,  was  a subject  of  the  greatest  sore_ 
ness  and  annoyance  to  his  mind  ; and  he  warmly  expressed 
the  indignation  which  he  felt,  at  an  action  which  he  could 
not  punish. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


Marion’s  camp  at  Snow’s  Island — The  Character  of  his  War- 
fare— Of  his  Men— Anecdotes  of  Conyers  and  Horry — He 
feasts  a British  Officer  on  Potatoes — Ouells  a Mutiny. 

Marion’s  career  as  a partisan,  in  the  thickets  and  swamps 
of  Carolina,  is  abundantly  distinguished  by  the  picturesque  ; 
but  it  was  while  he  held  his  camp  at  Snow’s  Island,  that  it 
received  its  highest  colors  of  romance.  In  this  snug  and 
impenetrable  fortress,  he  reminds  us  very  much  of  the  an- 
cient feudal  baron  of  France  and  Germany,  who,  perched 
on  castled  eminence,  looked  down  with  the  complacency  of 
an  eagle  from  his  eyrie,  and  marked  all  below  him  for  his 
own.  The  resemblance  is  good  in  all  respects  but  one. 
The  plea  and  justification  of  Marion  are  complete.  His 
warfare  was  legitimate.  He  was  no  mountain  robber, — no 
selfish  and  reckless  ruler,  thirsting  for  spoil  and  delighting 
inhumanly  in  blood.  The  love  of  liberty,  the  defence  of 
country,  the  protection  of  the  feeble,  the  maintenance  of 
humanity  and  all  its  dearest  interests,  against  its  tyrant— 
these  were  the  noble  incentives  which  strengthened  him  in 
his  stronghold,  made  it  terrible  in  the  eyes  of  his  enemy,  and 
sacred  in  those  of  his  countrymen.  Here  he  lay,  grimly 
watching  for  the  proper  time  and  opportunity  when  to  sally 
forth  and  strike.  His  position,  so  far  as  it  sheltered  him 
from  his  enemies,  and  gave  him  facilities  for  their  over- 
throw, was  wonderfully  like  that  of  the  knightly  robber  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  True,  his  camp  was  without  its  castle^- 


LIKE  UK  jIARIOJ. 


167 


but  it  had  its  fosse  and  keep — its  draw-bridge  and  port- 
cullis. There  were  no  towers  frowning  in  stone  and  iron — 
but  there  were  tall  pillars  of  pine  and  cypress,  from  the 
waving  tops  of  which  the  warders  looked  out,  and  gave 
warning  of  the  foe  or  the  victim.  No  cannon  thundered 
from  his  walls;  no  knights, shining  in  armor,  sallied  forth 
to  the  tourney.  He  was  fond  of  none  of  the  mere  pomps 
of  war.  He  held  no  revels — “ drank  no  wine  through  the 
helmet  barred,”  and,  quite  unlike  the  baronial  ruffian  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  was  strangely  indifferent  to  the  feasts  of 
gluttony  and  swilled  insolence.  He  found  no  joy  in  the 
pleasures  of  the  table.  Art  had  done  little  to  increase  the 
comforts  or  the  securities  of  his  fortress.  It  was  one,  com- 
plete to  his  hands,  from  those  of  nature — such  an  one  as 
must  have  delighted  the  generous  English  outlaw  of  Sher- 
wood forest;  insulated  by  deep  ravines  and  rivers,  a dense 
forest  of  mighty  trees,  and  interminable  undergrowth.  The 
vine  and  briar  guarded  his  passes.  The  laurel  and  the 
shrub,  the  vine  and  sweet  scented  jessamine,  roofed  his 
dwelling,  and  clambered  up  between  his  closed  eyelids 
and  the  stars.  Obstructions,  scarcely  penetrable  by  any 
foe,  crowded  the  pathways  to  his  tent ; — and  no  footstep, 
not  practised  in  the  secret,  and  cto  the  manner  born,’  might 
pass  unchallenged  to  his  midnight  rest.  The  swamp  was  his 
moat ; his  bulwarks  were  the  deep  ravines,  which,  watched 
by  sleepless  rifles,  were  quite  as  impregnable  as  the  castles 
on  the  Rhine.  Here,  in  the  possession  of  his  fortress,  the 
partisan  slept  secure.  In  the  defence  of  such  a place,  in 
the  employment  of  such  material  as  he  had  to  use,  Marion 
stands  out  alone  in  our  written  history,  as  the  great  master 
of  that  sort  of  strategy,  which  renders  the  untaught  militia- 
man in  his  native  thickets,  a match  for  the  best  drilled 
veteran  of  Europe.  Marion  seemed  to  possess  an  intuitive 
knowledge  of  his  men  and  material,  by  which,  without 


I6S 


LIFE  OF  MARIO  K . 


effort,  he  was  led  to  the  most  judicious  modes  for  their  ex- 
ercise. He  beheld,  at  a glance,  the  evils  or  advantages  of 
a position.  By  a nice  adaptation  of  his  resources  to  his 
situation,  he  promptly  supplied  its  deficiencies  and  repaired 
its  defects.  Till  this  was  done,  he  did  not  sleep; — he  re- 
laxed in  none  of  his  endeavors.  By  patient  toil,  by  keen- 
est vigilance,  by  a genius  peculiarly  his  own,  he  reconciled 
those  inequalities  of  fortune  or  circumstance,  under  which 
ordinary  men  sit  down  in  despair.  Surrounded  by  supe- 
rior foes,  he  showed  no  solicitude  on  this  account.  If  his 
position  was  good,  their  superiority  gave  him  little  concern. 
He  soon  contrived  to  lessen  it,  by  cutting  off  their  advanc- 
ed parties,  their  scouts  or  foragers,  and  striking  at  their 
detachments  in  detail.  It  was  on  their  own  ground,  in 
their  immediate  presence,  nay,  in  the  very  midst  of  them, 
that  he  frequently  made  himself  a home.  Better  live  upon 
foes  than  upon  friends,  was  his  maxim;  and  this  practice 
of  living  amongst  foes  was  the  great  school  by  which  his 
people  were  taught  vigilance. 

The  adroitness  and  address  of  Marion’s  captainship  were 
never  more  fully  displayed  than  when  he  kept  Snow’s 
Island  ; sallying  forth,  as  occasion  offered,  to  harass  the 
superior  foe,  to  cut  off  his  convoys,  or  to  break  up,  before 
they  could  well  embody,  the  gathering  and  undisciplined 
Tories.  His  movements  were  marked  by  equal  prompti- 
tude and  wariness.  He  suffered  no  risks  from  a neglect  of 
proper  precaution.  His  habits  of  circumspection  and 
resolve  ran  together  in  happy  unison.  His  plans,  carefully 
considered  beforehand,  were  always  timed  with  the  hap- 
piest reference  to  the  condition  and  feelings  of  his  men. 
To  prepare  that  condition,  and  to  train  those  feelings,  were 
the  chief  employment  of  his  repose.  He  knew  his  game, 
and  how  it  should  be  played,  before  a step  was  taken  or  a 
weapon  drawn.  When  he  himself,  or  any  of  his  parties. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


169 


left  the  island,  upon  an  expedition,  they  advanced  along  no 
beaten  paths.  They  made  them  as  they  went.  He  had 
the  Intian  faculty  in  perfection,  of  gathering  his  course 
from  the  sun,  from  the  stars,  from  the  bark  and  the  tops  of 
trees,  and  such  other  natural  guides,  as  the  woodman  ac- 
quires only  through  long  and  watchful  experience.  Many 
of  the  trails,  thus  opened  by  him,  upon  these  expeditions, 
are  now  the  ordinary  avenues  of  the  country.  On  starting, 
he  almost  invariably  struck  into  the  woods,  and  seeking  the 
heads  of  the  larger  water  courses,  crossed  them  at  their 
first  and  small  beginnings.  He  destroyed  the  bridges 
where  he  could.  He  preferred  fords.  The  former  not  only 
facilitated  the  progress  of  less  fearless  enemies,  but  ap- 
prised them  of  his  own  approach.  If  speed  was  essential, 
a more  direct,  but  not  less  cautious  route  was  pursued 
The  stream  was  crossed  sometimes  where  it  was  deepest. 
On  such  occasions  the  party  swam  their  horses,  Marion 
himself  leading  the  way,  though  he  himself  was  unable  to 
swim.  He  rode  a famous  horse  called  Ball,  which  he  had 
taken  from  a loyalist  captain  of  that  name.  This  animal 
was  a sorrel,  of  high,  generous  blood,  and  took  the  water  as 
if  born  to  it.  The  horses  of  the  brigade  soon  learned  to 
follow  him  as  naturally  as  their  riders  followed  his  mas- 
ter. There  was  no  waiting  for  pontoons  and  boats.  Had 
there  been  there  would  have  been  no  surprises. 

The  secrecy  with  which  Marion  conducted  his  expedi- 
tions was,  perhaps,  one  of  the  causes  of  their  frequent 
success.  He  entrusted  his  schemes  to  nobody,  not  even 
his  most  confidential  officers.  He  consulted  with  them 
respectfully,  heard  them  patiently,  weighed  their  sugges- 
tions, and  silently  approached  his  conclusions  They 
knew  his  determinations  only  from  his  actions.  He  left  no 
track  behind  him,  if  it  were  possible  to  avoid  it.  He  was 
often  vainly  hunted  after  by  his  own  detachments.  He  was 

8 


170 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


more  apt  at  finding  them  than  they  him.  His  scouts  were 
taught  a peculiar  and  shrill  whistle,  wh:ch,at  Light,  could 
be  heard  at  a most  astonishing  distance.  We  are  reminded 
of  the  signal  of  Roderick  Dhu  : — 

“ He  whistled  shrill, 

And  he  was  answered  from  the  hill, 

Wild  as  the  scream  of  the  curlew, 

From  crag  to  crag,  the  signal  flew.’ 

His  expeditions  were  frequently  long,  and  his  men,  hurry- 
ing forth  without  due  preparation,  not  unfrequently  suf- 
fered much  privation  from  want  of  food.  To  guard  against 
this  danger,  it  was  their  habit  to  watch  his  cook.  If  they 
saw  him  unusually  busied  in  preparing  supplies  of  the  rude, 
portable  food,  which  it  was  Marion’s  custom  to  carry  on 
such  occasions,  they  knew  what  was  before  them,  and 
provided  themselves  accordingly.  In  no  other  way  could 
they  arrive  at  their  general’s  intentions.  His  favorite 
time  for  moving  was  with  the  setting  sun,  and  then  it  was 
known  that  the  march  would  continue  all  night.  Before 
striking  any  sudden  blow,  he  has  been  known  to  march 
sixty  or  seventy  miles,  taking  no  other  food  in  twenty- 
four  hours,  than  a meal  of  cold  potatoes  and  a draught  of 
cold  wrnter.  The  latter  might  have  been  repeated.  This 
wras  truly  a Spartan  process  for  acquiring  vigor.  Its  re- 
sults were  a degree  of  patient  hardihood,  as  well  in  officers 
as  men,  to  which  few  soldiers  in  any  periods  have  attained 
These  marches  were  made  in  all  seasons.  His  men  were 
badly  clothed  in  homespun,  a light  wear  wrhich  afforded 
little  warmth.  They  slept  in  the  open  air,  and  frequently 
without  a blanket.  Their  ordinary  food  consisted  of  sweet 
potatoes,  gainished,  on  fortunate  occasions,  with  lean  beef. 
Salt  was  only  to  be  had  when  they  succeeded  in  the  cap- 
ture of  an  enemy’s  commissariat ; an  1 even  when  this 


LIFE  OF  M A RIOS. 


171 


most  necessary  of  all  human  condiments  was  obtained, 
the  unselfish  nature  of  Marion  made  him  indifferent  to  its 
use.  He  distributed  it  on  such  occasions,  in  quantities 
not  exceeding  a bushel,  to  each  Whig  family  ; and  by  this 
patriarchal  care,  still  farther  endeared  himself  to  the 
affection  of  his  followers. 

The  effect  of  this  mode  of  progress  was  soon  felt  by  the 
people  of  the  partisan.  They  quickly  sought  to  emulate 
the  virtues  which  they  admired.  They  became  expert  in 
the  arts  which  he  practised  so  successfully.  The  constant 
employment  which  he  gave  them,  the  nature  of  his 
exactions,  taught  activitjq  vigilance,  coolness  and  audacity. 
His  first  requisition,  from  his  subordinates,  wras  good  infor- 
mation. His  scouts  were  always  his  best  men.  They 
were  generally  good  horsemen,  and  first  rate  shots.  His 
cavalry  were,  in  fact,  so  many  mounted  gunmen,  not  uni- 
formly weaponed,  but  carrying  the  rifle,  the  carbine,  or 
an  ordinary  fowling-piece,  as  they  happened  to  possess  or 
procure  them.  Their  swords,  unless  taken  from  the  ene- 
my, were  made  out  of  mill  saws,  roughly  manufactured  by 
a forest  blacksmith.  His  scouts  were  out  in  all  directions, 
and  at  all  hours.  They  did  the  double  duty  of  patrol  and 
spies.  They  hovered  about  the  posts  of  the  enemy, 
crouching  in  the  thicket,  or  darting  along  the  plain,  picking 
up  prisoners,  and  information,  and  spoils  together.  They 
cut  off  stragglers,  encountered  patrols  of  the  foe,  and 
arrested  his  supplies  on  the  way  to  the  garrison.  Some- 
times the  single  scout,  buried  in  the  thick  tops  of  the  tree, 
looked  down  upon  the  march  of  his  legions,  or  hung 
perched  over  the  hostile  encampment  till  it  slept,  then  slip- 
ping down,  stole  through  the  silent  host,  carrying  off  a 
drowsy  sentinel,  or  a favorite  charger,  upon  which  the  dar- 
ing spy  flourished  conspicuous  among  his  less  fortunate  com- 
panions The  boldness  of  these  adventurers  was  sometimes 


4 


172  LIFE  OF  MARIOF 

wonderfu  almost  beyond  belief.  It  was  the  strict  result  of 
Shat  confluence  in  their  woodman  skill,  which  the  practice 
of  their  leader,  and  his  invariable  success,  naturally  taught 
them  to  entertain. 

The  mutual  confidence  which  thus  grew  up  between  our 
partisan  and  his  men,  made  the  business  of  war,  in  spite  of 
its  peculiar  difficulties  and  privations,  a pleasant  one.  As 
they  had  no  doubts  of  their  leader’s  ability  to  conduct 
them  to  victory,  he  had  no  apprehension,  but, when  brought 
to  a meeting  with  the  enemy, that  they  would  secure  it. 
His  mode  of  battle  was  a simple  one  ; generally  very 
direct ; but  be  was  wonderfully  prompt  in  availing  him- 
self of  the  exigencies  of  the  affair.  His  rule  was  to  know 
his  enemy,  how  posted  and  in  what  strength, — then,  if  his 
men  were  set  on,  they  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  fight. 
They  knew  that  he  had  so  placed  them  that  valor  was  the 
only  requisite.  A swamp,  right  or  left,  or  in  his  rear  ; a 
thicket  beside  him  ; — any  spot  in  which  time  could  be 
gained,  and  an  inexperienced  militia  rallied,  long  enough 
to  become  reconciled  to  the  unaccustomed  sights  and  sounds 
of  war, — were  all  that  he  required,  in  order  to  secure  a fit 
position  for  fighting  in.  He  found  no  difficulty  in  making 
good  soldiers  of  them.  It  caused  him  no  surprise,  and  we 
may  add  no  great  concern,  that  his  raw  militia  men,  armed 
with  rifle  and  ducking  gun,  should  retire  before  the  pushing 
bayonets  of  a regular  soldiery.  He  considered  it  mere 
butchery  to  expose  them  to  this  trial.  But  he  taught  his 
men  to  retire  slowly,  to  take  post  behind  the  first  tree  or 
thicket,  reload,  and  try  the  effect  of  a second  fire  ; and  so 
on,  of  a third  and  fourth,  retiring  still,  but  never  forgetting 
to  take  advantage  of  every  shelter  that  offered  itself.  He 
expected  them  to  fly,  but  not  too  far  to  be  useful.  We 
shall  see  the  effect  of  tiffs  training  at  Eutaw,  where  the 
militia  in  the  advance  delivered  seventeen  fires,  before 


LIFE  OF  MARIO  ■?. 


173 


they  yielded  to  the  pvess  of  the  enemy.  But,  says  John- 
son, with  equal  truth  and  terseness,  “ that  distrust  of  their 
own  immediate  commanders  which  militia  are  too  ;q  to 
be  affected  with,  never  p 'oduced  an  emotion  where  Marion 
and  Pickens  commanded  The  history  of  American  war- 
fare shows  conclusively  that,  under  the  right  leaders,  the 
American  militia  are  as  cool  in  moments  of  danger  as  the 
best  drilled  soldiery  in  the  universe.  But  they  have  been 
a thousand  times  disgraced  by  imbecile  and  vainglorious 
pretenders. 

Marion  was  admirably  supported  by  his  followers. 
Several  officers  of  the  brigade  were  distinguished  men.  Of 
Major  John  James  we  have  already  seen  something.  All 
the  brothers  were  men  of  courage  and  great  muscular 
activity.  The  Witherspoons  were  similarly  endowed. 
His  chief  counsellors  were  the  brothers  Horry,  and 
Postell, — all  like  himself  descended  from  Huguenot  stocks, 
To  the  two  last  (the  brothers  Posted)  it  has  been  remark- 
ed, that  “nothing  appeared  difficult.”®  Captains  Baxter 
and  Conyers  were  particularly  distinguished,- — the  first  for 
his  gigantic  frame,  which  was  informed  by  a corresponding 
courage  ; the  latter  by  his  equal  braver)  and  horseman- 
ship. He  was  a sort  of  knight-errant  in  the  brigade, 
and  his  behavior  seemed  not  unfrequently  dictated  by  a 
passion  for  chivalrous  display.  An  anecdote,  in  connection 
with  Conyers,  is  told,  which  will  serve  to  show  what 
was  the  spirit  of  the  patriotic  damsels  of  the  revolution. 
Marion  had  environed  Colonel  Watson,  at  a plantation 
where  Mary,  the  second  daughter  of  John  Witherspoon, 
was  living  at  the  time.  She  was  betrothed  to  C overs. 
The  gallant  captain  daily  challenged  the  British,  p -sta, 

* History  of  Greene,  p 225,  vol.  ii. 

. Judge  James’  Sketch  rf  Marion. 


17-1 


LIFE  OF  MARI.  N 


skirmishing  in  the  sight  of  his  mistress.  His  daring  was 
apparent  enough — his  great  skill  and  courage  were  known. 
He  presented  himself  frequently  before  the  lines  of  the  enemy, 
either  as  a single  champion  or  at  the  head  of  his  troop. 
The  pride  of  the  maiden’s  heart  may  be  imagined  when  she 
heard  the  warning  in  the  camp,  as  she  frequently  did — 
u Take  care, — there  is  Conyers  !”  The  insult  was  unresent- 
ed : but,  one  day,  when  her  lover  appeared  as  usual,  a 
British  officer,  approaching  her,  spoke  sneeringly,  or  dis- 
respectfully, of  our  knight-errant.  The  high  spirited  girl 
drew  the  shoe  from  her  foot,  and  flinging  it  in  his  face,  ex- 
claimed, “ Coward  ! go  and  meet  him  !”  The  chronicler 
from  whom  we  derive  this  anecdote  is  particularly  careful  to 
tell  us  that  it  was  a walking  shoe  and  not  a kid  slipper 
which  she  made  use  of ; by  which  we  are  to  understand, 
that  she  was  no  ways  tender  of  the  stroke. 

The  Horrys  were  both  able  officers.  Hugh  was  a par- 
ticular favorite  of  Marion.  For  his  brother  he  had  large 
esteem.  Of  Peter  Horry  we  have  several  amusing  anec- 
dotes, some  of  which  we  gather  from  himself.  It  is  upon 
the  authority  of  his  MS.  memoir  that  we  depend  for  seve- 
ral matters  of  interest  in  this  volume.  This  memoir, 
written  in  the  old  age  of  the  author,  and  while  he  suffered 
from  infirmities  of  age  and  health,  is  a crude  but  not  unin- 
teresting narrative  of  events  in  his  own  life,  and  of  the 
war.  The  colonel  confesses  himself  very  frankly.  In  his 
youth  he  had  a great  passion  for  the  sex,  wffiich  led  him 
into  frequent  difficulties.  These,  though  never  very  seri- 
ous, he  most  seriously  relates.  He  was  brave,  and  ambi- 
tious of  distinction.  This  ambition  led  him  to  desire  a 
command  of  cavalry  rather  than  of  infantry.  But  he  was 
no  rider — was  several  times  unhorsed  in  combat,  and  was 
indebted  to  the  fidelity  of  his  soldiers  for  his  safety.*  On 
♦ MS.  Memoir,  p.  51. 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


175 


one  occasion  his  escape  was  more  narrow  frcm  a different 
cause.  He  gives  us  a ludicrous  account  of  it  himself 
Crossing  the  swamp  at  Lynch’s  Creek,  to  join  Marion,  in 
the  dark,  and  the  swamp  swimming,  he  encountered  the 
bough  of  a tree,  to  which  he  clung,  while  his  horse  passed 
from  under  him.  He  was  no  swimmer,  and,  but  for  timely 
assistance  from  his  followers,  would  have  been  drowned. 
Another  story,  which  places  him  in  a scarcely  less  ludicrous 
attitude,  is  told  by  Garden.*  He  was  ordered  by  Marion 
to  wait,  in  ambush,  the  approach  of  a British  detachment. 
The  duty  was  executed  with  skill ; the  enemy  was  com- 
pletely in  his  power.  But  he  labored  under  an  impedi- 
ment in  his  speech,  which,  we  may  readily  suppose,  was 
greatly  increased  by  anxiety  and  excitement.  The  word 
“ fire”  stuck  in  his  throat,  as  “ amen”  did  in  that  of  Mac- 
beth. The  emergency  was  pressing,  but  this  only  increased 
the  difficulty.  In  vain  did  he  make  the  attempt.  He  could 
say  “ fi — fi — fi !”  but  he  could  get  no  further — the  “ r”  was 
incorrigible.  At  length,  irritated  almost  to  madness,  he 

exclaimed,  “ Shoot , d n you,  shoot ! you  know  what 

I would  say ! Shoot,  and  be  d d to  you  !”  He  was 

present,  and  acted  bravely,  in  almost  every  affair  of  conse- 
quence, in  the  brigade  of  Marion.  At  Quinby,  Capt.  Bax- 
ter, already  mentioned,  a man  distinguished  by  his  great 
strength  and  courage,  as  well  as  size,  and  by  equally  great 
simplicity  of  character,  cried  out,  “ I am  wounded,  colo- 
nel !”  “ Think  no  more  of  it,  Baxter,”  was  the  answer 

of  Horry,  “ but  stand  to  your  post.”  “ But  I can’t  stand,” 
says  Baxter,  “ I am  wounded  a second  time.”  11  Lie 
down  then,  Baxter,  but  quit  not  your  post.”  “ They  have 
shot  me  again,  colonel,”  said  the  wounded  man,  “ and  if  I 
stay  any  longer  here,  I shall  be  shot  to  pieces.”  “ Be  it 
so,  Baxter,  but  stir  not,”  was  the  order,  which  the  brave 
* Anecdotes,  first  series,  p.  30 


176 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


fellow  obeyed,  receiving  a fourth  wound  before  the  engage* 
ment  was  over. 

It  was  while  Marion  was  lying  with  his  main  force  at 
the  camp  at  Snow’s  Island,  that  two  circumstances  oc- 
curred which  deserve  mention,  as  equally  serving  to  illus- 
trate his  own  character,  and  the  warfare  of  that  time  and 
region.  One  of  these  occurrences  has  long  been  a popular 
anecdote,  and,  as  such,  has  been  made  the  subject  of  a 
very  charming  picture,  which  has  done  something  towards 
giving  it  a more  extended  circulation.*  The  other  is  less 
generally  known,  but  is  not  less  deserving  of  the  popular 
ear,  as  distinguishing,  quite  as  much  as  the  former,  the 
purity,  simplicity,  and  firmness  of  Marion’s  character.  It 
appears  that,  desiring  the  exchange  of  prisoners,  a young 
officer  was  dispatched  from  the  British  post  at  Georgetown 
to  the  swamp  encampment  of  Marion,  in  order  to  effect 
this  object.  He  was  encountered  by  one  of  the  scouting 
parties  of  the  brigade,  carefully  blindfolded,  and  conducted, 
by  intricate  paths,  through  the  wild  passes,  and  into  the 
deep  recesses  of  the  island.  Here,  when  his  eyes  were 
uncovered,  he  found  himself  surrounded  by  a motley  mul- 
titude, which  might  well  have  reminded  him  of  Robin 
Hood  and  his  outlaws.  The  scene  was  unquestionably 
wonderfully  picturesque  and  attractive,  and  our  young 
officer  seems  to  have  been  duly  impressed  by  it.  He  was 
in  the  middle  of  one  of  those  grand  natural  amphitheatres 
so  common  in  our  swamp  forests,  in  which  the  massive 
pine,  the  gigantic  cypress,  and  the  stately  and  ever-green 
laurel,  streaming  with  moss,  and  linking  their  opposite 
arms,  inflexibly  locked  in  the  embrace  of  centuries,  group 
together,  with  elaborate  limbs  and  leaves,  the  chief  and 

* General  Marion,  in  his  swamp  encampment,  inviting  the 
British  officer  to  dinner.  Painted  by  J.  B.  White  ; engraved  by 
Sartain  ; published  by  the  Apollo  Association 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


rn 

most  graceful  features  of  Gothic  architecture.  To  these 
recesses,  through  the  massed  foliage  of  the  forest,  the  sun- 
light came  as  sparingly,  and  with  rays  as  mellow  and  sub- 
dued, as  through  the  painted  window  of  the  old  cathedral, 
falling  upon  aisle  and  chancel.  Scattered  around  were  the 
forms  of  those  hardy  warriors  with  whom  our  young 
officer  was  yet  destined,  most  probably,  to  meet  in  conflict, 
— strange  or  savage  in  costume  or  attitude — lithe  and 
sinewy  of  frame — keen-eyed  and  wakeful  at  the  least 
alarm.  Some  slept,  some  joined  in  boyish  sports ; some 
with  foot  in  stirrup,  stood  ready  for  the  signal  to  mount 
and  march.  The  deadly  rifle  leaned  against  the  tree,  the 
sabre  depended  from  its  boughs.  Steeds  were  browsing 
in  the  shade,  with  loosened  bits,  but  saddled,  ready  at  the 
first  sound  of  the  bugle  to  skirr  through  brake  and  thicket. 
Distant  fires,  dimly  burning,  sent  up  their  faint  white 
smokes,  that,  mingling  with  the  thick  forest  tops,  which 
they  could  not  pierce,  were  scarce  distinguishable  from  the 
long  grey  moss  which  made  the  old  trees  look  like  so 
mai  v ancient  patriarchs.  But  the  most  remarkable  objecl 
in  all  this  scene  was  Marion  himself.  Could  it  be  that  the 
person  who  stood  before  our  visitor — “ in  stature  of  the 
smallest  size,  thin,  as  well  as  low”* — was  that  of  the 

* Henry  Lee’s  Memoirs.  He  adds : “ His  visage  was  nol 
pleasing,  and  his  manners  not  captivating.  He  was  reserved 
and  silent,  entering  into  conversation  only  when  necessary,  and 
then  with  modesty  and  good  sense.  He  possessed  a strong 
mind,  improved  by  its  own  reflections  and  observations,  not  by- 
books  or  travel.  His  dress  was  like  his  address — plain,  regard- 
ing comfort  and  decency  only.  In  his  meals  he  was  abstemious, 
eating  generally  of  one  dish,  and  drinking  water  mostly.  He 
was  sedulous  and  constant  in  his  attention  to  the  duties  of  his 
station,  to  which  every  other  consideration  yielded.  Even  the 
charms  of  the  fair,  like  the  luxuries  of  the  table  and  the  allure- 
ments of  wealth,  seemed  to  je  lost  upon  him.  The  procurement 
of  subsistence  for  his  men,  and  the  contir  uanee  of  annoyance 
for  his  enemy,  engrossed  his  entire  mind.  He  was  virtuous  all 

8* 


178 


LIFE  OF  M IRION. 


redoubted  chief,  whose  sleepless  activity  and  patriot  c 
zeal  had  carried  terror  to  the  gates  of  Charleston  ; had 
baffled  the  pursuit  and  defied  the  arms  of  the  best  British 
captains ; had  beaten  the  equal  enemy,  and  laughed  at  the 
superior  ? Certainly,  if  he  were,  then  never  were  the 
simple  resources  of  intellect,  as  distinguishable  from  strength 
of  limb,  or  powers  of  muscle,  so  wonderfully  evident  as  in 
this  particular  instance.  The  physical  powers  of  Marion 
were  those  simply  of  endurance.  His  frame  had  an  iron 
hardihood,  derived  from  severe  discipline  and  subdued  de- 
sires and  appetites,  but  lacked  the  necessary  muscle  and 
capacities  of  the  mere  soldier.  It  was  as  the  general,  the 
commander,  the  counsellor,  rather  than  as  the  simple 
leader  of  his  men,  that  Marion  takes  rank,  and  is  to  be 
considered  in  the  annals  of  war.  He  attempted  no  physi- 
cal achievements,  and  seems  to  have  placed  very  little  re- 
liance upon  his  personal  prowess.* 

The  British  visitor  was  a young  man  who  had  never  seen 
Marion.  The  great  generals  whom  he  was  accustomed 

over  ; never,  even  in  manner,  much  less  in  reality,  did  he  trench 
upon  right.  Beloved  by  his  friends,  and  respected  by  his  ene- 
mies, he  exhibited  a luminous  example  of  the  beneficial  effects 
to  be  produced  by  an  individual  who,  with  only  small  means  at 
his  command,  possesses  a virtuous  heart,  a strong  head,  and  a 
mind  directed  to  the  common  good.” — Appendix  to  Memoirs, 
vol.  i.  pp.  396. 

* The  dislike  or  indifference  of  Marion,  to  anything  like  mere 
military  display,  was  a matter  of  occasional  comment,  and  some 
jest,  among  his  followers.  Among  other  proofs  which  are  given 
of  this  indifference,  we  are  told,  that,  on  one  occasion,  attempting 
to  draw  his  sword  from  the  scabbard,  he  failed  to  do  so  in  conse- 
quence of  the  rust,  the  result  of  his  infrequent  employment  of  the 
weapon  Certainly,  a rich  event  in  the  life  of  a military  man. 
The  fact  is,  that  Marion  seldom  used  his  sword  except  in  battle, 
or  on  occasions  when  its  employment  was  inseparable  from  his 
duties.  Long  swords  were  then  in  fashion,  but  he  continued  to 
wear  the  small  cut  and  thrust  of  trie  second  regiment.  Such  a 
weapon  better  suited  his  inferior  physique,  and  necessarily  lessened 
the  motives  to  personal  adventure. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


179 


io  see,  were  great  of  limb,  portly,  and  huge  :f  proportion. 
Such  was  Cornwallis,  and  others  of  the  British  army 
Such,  too,  was  the  case  among  the  Americans.  The  aver 
age  weight  of  these  opposing  generals,  during  that  war,  is 
stated  at  more  than  two  hundred  pounds.  The  successes 
of  Marion  must  naturally  have  led  our  young  Englishman 
to  look  for  something  in  his  stature  even  above  this  ave- 
rage, and  verging  on  the  gigantic.  Vastness  seems  always 
the  most  necessary  agent  in  provoking  youthful  wonder, 
and  satisfying  it.  His  astonishment,  when  they  did  meet, 
was,  in  all  probability,  not  of  a kind  to  lessen  the  partisan 
in  his  estimation.  That  a frame  so  slight,  and  seemingly 
so  feeble,  coupled  with  so  much  gentleness,  and  so  little 
pretension,  should  provoke  a respect  so  general,  and  fears, 
on  one  side,  so  impressive,  was  well  calculated  to  compel 
inquiry  as  to  the  true  sources  of  this  influence.  Such  an 
inquiry  was  in  no  way  detrimental  to  a reputation  founded, 
like  Marion’s,  on  the  successful  exercise  of  peculiar  men- 
tal endowments.  The  young  oflicer,  as  soon  as  his  busi- 
ness was  dispatched,  prepared  to  depart,  but  Marion  gently 
detained  him,  as  he  said,  for  dinner,  which  was  in  prepara- 
tion. “ The  mild  and  dignified  simplicity  of  Marion’s 
manners  had  already  produced  their  effects,  and,  to  prolong 
so  interesting  an  interview,  the  invitation  was  accepted 
The  entertainment  was  served  up  on  pieces  of  bark,  and 
consisted  entirely  of  roasted  potatoes,  of  which  the  gene- 
ral ate  heartily,  requesting  his  guest  to  profit  by  his  exam- 
ple, repeating  the  old  adage,  that  ‘ hunger  is  the  best  sauce.’ 
“ But  surely,  general,”  said  the  officer,  “ this  cannot  be 
your  ordinary  fare.”  “ Indeed,  sir,  it  is,”  he  replied,  “ and 
we  are  fortunate  on  this  occasion,  entertaining  company,  to 
have  more  than  our  usual  allowance.”*  The  story  goes, 
that  the  young  Briton  was  so  greatly  impressed  with  the 
* Garden — Anecdote-s — First  Series,  pp  22. 


180 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


occurrence,  that,  on  his  return  to  Georgetown,  he  retirei 
from  the  service,  declaring  his  conviction  that  men  who 
could  with  such  content  endure  the  privations  of  such  a 
life,  were  not  to  be  subdued.  His  conelusion  w'as  strictly 
logical,  and  hence,  indeed,  the  importance  of  such  a war- 
fare as  that  carried  on  by  Marion,  in  which,  if  he  obtained 
no  great  victories,  he  was  yet  never  to  be  overcome. 

The  next  anecdote,  if  less  pleasing  in  its  particulars,  is 
yet  better  calculated  for  the  development  of  Marion’s 
character,  the  equal  powers  of  firmness  and  forbearance 
which  he  possessed,  his  superiority  to  common  emotions, 
and  the  mingled  gentleness  and  dignity  with  which  he  ex- 
ecuted the  most  unpleasant  duties  of  his  command.  Marion 
had  placed  one  of  his  detachments  at  the  plantation  of  a 
Mr.  George  Crofts,  on  Sampit  Creek.  This  person  had 
proved  invariably  true  to  the  American  cause  ; had  sup- 
plied the  partisans  secretly  with  the  munitions  of  war, 
■with  cattle  and  provisions.  He  was  an  invalid,  however, 
suffering  from  a mortal  infirmity,  which  compelled  his 
removal  for  medical  attendance  to  Georgetown,  then  in 
possession  of  the  enemy.*  During  the  absence  of  the 
family,  Marion  placed  a sergeant  in  the  dwelling-house, 
for  its  protection.  From  this  place  the  guard  was  expelled 
by  two  officers  of  the  brigade,  and  the  house  stripped  of 
its  contents.  The  facts  were  first  disclosed  to  Marion  by 
Col.  P.  Horry,  who  received  them  from  the  wife  of  Crofts. 
This  lady  pointed  to  the  sword  of  her  husband  actually  at 
the  side  of  the  principal  offender.  The  indignation  ol 

* The  brigade  of  Marion  was  for  a long  period  without  medi- 
cal attendance  or  a surgeon  to  dress  his  wounded.  If  a wound 
reached  an  artery  the  patient  bled  to  death.  To  illustrate  the 
fierce  hostility  of  Whigs  and  Tories,  a single  anecdote  will  suffice. 
On  one  occasion,  Horry  had  three  men  wounded  near  George- 
town. A surgeon  of  the  Tories  was  then  a prisoner  in  his  ranks, 
yet  he  positively  refused  to  dress  the  wounds,  and  suffered  a fine 
youth  named  Kolb,  to  bleed  to  death  before  his  eyes,  from  a slight 
injury  upon  the  wrist. 


. LIFE  OF  MARION. 


1S1 


Marion  was  not  apt  to  expend  itself  in  words.  Redress 
was  promised  to  the  complainant  and  she  was  dismissed. 
Marion  proceeded  with  all  diligence  to  the  recovery  of  the 
property.  But  his  course  was  governed  by  prudence  as 
well  as  decision.  The  offenders  were  men  of  some  in- 
fluence, and  had  a small  faction  in  the  brigade,  which  had 
already  proved  troublesome,  and  might  be  dangerous.  One 
of  them  was  a major,  the  other  a captain.  Their  names 
are  both  before  us  in  the  MS.  memoir  of  Horry,  whose 
copious  detail  on  this  subject  leaves  nothing  to  be  supplied. 
We  forbear  giving  them,  as  their  personal  publication 
would  answer  no  good  purpose.  They  were  in  command 
of  a body  of  men,  about  sixty  in  number,  known  as  the 
Georgia  Refugees.  Upon  the  minds  of  these  men  the 
offenders  had  already  sought  to  act,  in  reference  to  the  ex- 
pected collision  with  their  general.  Marion  made  his 
preparations  writh  his  ordinary  quietness,  and  then  dispatch- 
ed Horry  to  the  person  who  was  in  possession  of  the 
sword  of  Croft;  for  which  he  made  a formal  demand.  He 
refused  to  give  it  up,  alleging  that  it  was  his,  and  taken  in 
war.  “ If  the  general  wants  it,”  he  added,  “ let  him  come 
for  it  himself.”  When  this  reply  was  communicated  to 
Marion  he  instructed  Horry  to  renew  the  demand.  His 
purpose  seems  to  have  been,  discovering  the  temper  of  the 
offender,  to  gain  the  necessary  time.  His  officers,  mean- 
while, were  gathering  around  him.  He  was  making  his 
preparations  for  a struggle,  which  might  be  bloody,  which 
might,  indeed,  involve  not  only  the  safety  of  his  brigade, 
but  his  own  future  usefulness.  Horry,  however,  with 
proper  spirit,  entreated  not  to  be  sent  again  to  the  offender, 
giving,  as  a reason  for  his  reluctance,  that,  in  consequence 
of  the  previous  rudeness  of  the  other,  he  was  not  in  the 
mood  to  tolerate  a repetition  of  the  indignity,  and  might, 
if  irritated,  be  provoked  to  violence.  Marion  then  dis- 


182 


LIFE  OF  MARION.  * 


patched  his  orderly  to  the  guilty  major,  with  a request 
civilly  worded,  that  he  might  see  him  at  head  quarters 
He  appeared  accordingly,  accompanied  by  the  captain  who 
had  joined  with  him  in  the  outrage,  and  under  whose  ip 
fluence  he  appeared  to  act.  Marion  renewed  his  demand; 
in  person,  for  the  sword  of  Croft.  The  other  again  refused 
to  deliver  it,  alleging  that  “ Croft  was  a Tory,  and  even 
then  with  the  enemy  in  Georgetown.” 

“ Will  you  deliver  me  the  sword  or  not,  Major ?” 

was  the  answer  which  Marion  made  to  this  suggestion. 

“ I will  not !”  was  the  reply  of  the  offender.  “ At  these 
words,”  says  Horry  in  the  MS.  before  us,  “ I could  for- 
bear no  longer,  and  said  with  great  warmth,  ‘ By  G — d, 
sir,  did  I command  this  brigade,  as  you  do,  1 would  hang 
them  both  up  in  half  an  hour  !’  Marion  sternly  replied, — 
‘This  is  none  of  your  business,  sir  : they  are  both  before 
me  !— Sergeant  of  the  guard,  bring  me  a file  of  men  with 
loaded  arms  and  fixed  bayonets  !’ — ‘ I was  silent !’  adds 
Horry:  ‘ all  our  field  officers  in  camp  were  present,  and 
when  the  second  refusal  of  the  sword  was  given,  they  all 
put  their  hands  to  their  swords  in  readiness  to  draw.  My 
own  sword  was  already  drawn!’ 

In  the  regular  service,  and  with  officers  accustomed  to, 
and  bred  up  in,  the  severe  and  stern  sense  of  authority 
which  is  usually  thought  necessary  to  a proper  discipline, 
the  refractory  offender  would  most  probably  have  been  hewn 
down  in  the  moment  of  his  disobedience.  The  effect  of 
such  a proceeding,  in  the  present  instance,  might  have  been 
of  the  most  fatal  character.  The  esprit  de  corps  might  have 
prompted  the  immediate  followers  of  the  offender  to  have 
seized  upon  their  weapons,  and,  though  annihilated,  as 
Horry  tells  us  they  would  have  been,  yet  several  valuable 
lives  might  have  been  lost,  which  the  country  could  ill 
have  spared.  The  mutiny  would  have  been  put  down, 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


183 


but  at  what  a price ! The  patience  and  prudence  of 
Marion’s  character  taught  him  forbearance.  His  mild- 
ness, by  putting  the  offender  entirely  in  the  wrong,  so 
justified  his  severity,  as  to  disarm  the  followers  of  the 
criminals.  These,  as  we  have  already  said,  were  about 
sixty  in  number.  Horry  continues : “Their  intentions  were, 
to  call  upon  these  men  for  support — our  officers  well  knew 
that  they  meant,  if  possible,  to  intimidate  Marion,  so  as  to 
[make  him]  come  into  their  measures  of  plunder  and  Tory- 
killing.”  The  affair  fortunately  terminated  without  blood- 
shed. fhe  prudence  of  the  general  had  its  effect.  The 
delay  gave  time  to  the  offenders  for  reflection.  Perhaps, 
looking  round  upon  their  followers,  they  saw  no  consenting 
spirit  of  mutiny  in  their  eyes,  encouraging  their  own ; 
for,  “ though  many  of  these  refugees  were  present,  none  of- 
fered to  back  or  support  the  mutinous  officers  ;” — and  when 
the  guard  that  was  ordered,  appeared  in  sight,  the  compa- 
nion of  the  chief  offender  was  seen  to  touch  the  arm  of  the 
other,  who  then  proffered  the  sword  to  Marion,  saying, 
“ General,  you  need  not  have  sent  for  the  guard.”*  Ma- 
rion, refusing  to  receive  it,  referred  him  to  the  sergeant  of 
the  guard,  and  thus  doubly  degraded,  the  dishonored  major 
of  Continentals — for  he  was  such — disappeared  from  sight, 
followed  by  his  associate.  His  farther  punishment  was  of 
a kind  somewhat  differing  from  those  which  are  common 
to  armies,  by  which  the  profession  of  arms  is  sometimes 
quite  as  much  dishonored  as  the  criminal.  Marion  en- 
deavored, by  his  punishments,  to  elevate  the  sense  of 
character  in  the  spectators.  He  had  some  of  the  notions 
of  Napoleon  on  this  subject.  He  was  averse  to  those 
brutal  punishments  which,  in  the  creature,  degrade  the 
glorious  image  of  the  Creator.  In  the  case  of  the  two  of- 

* Hc-ry’s  MS.,  from  which  the  several  extracts  preceding 
have  been  made. — pp.  100-103. 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


184 

fenders,  thus  dismissed  from  his  presence,  the  penalty  fvas,  of 
all  others,  the  most  terrible  to  persons,  in  whose  minds  there 
remained  the  sparks  even  of  a conventional  honor.  These 
men  had  been  guilty  of  numerous  offences  against  humanity. 
Marion  expelled  them  from  his  brigade.  Subsequently, 
their  actions  became  such,  that  he  proclaimed  their  out- 
lawry through  the  country.15.  By  one  of  these  men  he  was 
challenged  to  single  combat,  but  he  treated  the  summons 
with  deserved  contempt.  His  composure  remained  unruf- 
fled by  the  circumstance. 

In  this  affair,  as  in  numerous  others,  Marion’s  great 
knowledge  of  the  militia  service,  and  of  the  peculiar 
people  with  whom  he  sometimes  had  to  deal,  enabled  him 
to  relieve  himself  with  little  difficulty  from  troublesome 
companions.  Of  these  he  necessarily  had  many  ; for  the 
exigencies  of  the  country  were  such  that  patriotism  was 
not  permitted  to  be  too  nice  in  the  material  which  it  was 
compelled  to  employ.  The  refugees  were  from  various 
quarters — were  sometimes,  as  we  have  seen,  adopted  into 
his  ranks  from  those  of  the  defeated  Tories,  and  were 
frequently  grossly  ignorant,  not  only  of  what  was  due  to 
the  community  in  which  they  found  themselves,  but  still 
more  ignorant  of  the  obligations  of  that  military  law  to 
which  they  voluntarily  put  themselves  in  subjection. 
Marion’s  modes  of  punishment  happily  reached  all  such 
cases  without  making  the  unhappy  offender  pay  too  dearly 
for  the  sin  of  ignorance.  On  one  occasion,  Horry  tells  us 
that  he  carried  before  him  a prisoner  charged  with  deser- 
tion to  the  enemy.  “ Marion  released  him,  saying  to  me, 
‘ let  him  go,  he  is  too  worthless  to  deserve  the  considera- 

* He  set  up  on  trees  and  houses,  in  public  places,  proclama- 
tions in  substance  thus,  that  Major and  Cap-  did  not 

belong  to  his  brigade,  that  they  were  banditti,  robbers  and 
thieves, — were  hereby  deemed  out  of  the  laws,  and  might  be 
killed  wherever  found. — Horry’s  MS.  pp.  104,  105. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


185 


tion  of  a court  martial.’  ” Such  a decision  in  such  a case, 
would  have  shocked  a military  martinet,  and  yet,  in  all 
probability,  the  fellow  thus  discharged,  never  repeated  the 
offence,  and  fought  famously  afterwards  in  the  cause  of 
his  merciful  commander.  We  have  something  yet  to  learn 
on  these  subjects.  The  result  of  a system  in  which  scorn 
is  so  equally  blended  with  mercy,  was  singularly  good. 
In  the  case  of  the  person  offending  (as  is  frequently  the 
case  among  militia)  through  sheer  ignorance  of  martial  law, 
it  teaches  while  it  punishes,  and  reforms,  in  some  degree, 
the  being  which  it  saves.  Where  the  fault  flows  from 
native  worthlessness  of  character  the  effect  is  not  less 
beneficial.  One  of  Marion’s  modes  of  getting-  rid  of  worth- 
less  officers,  was  to  put  them  into  Coventry.  In  this  prac- 
tice his  good  officers  joined  him,  and  their  sympathy  and 
co-operation  soon  secured  his  object.  il  He  kept  a list  ol 
them,”  said  Horry,  “ which  he  called  his  Black  List. 
This  mode  answered  so  well  that  many  resigned  their 
commissions,  and  the  brigade  was  thus  fortunately  rid  ot 
such  worthless  fellows.”  The  value  of  such  a riddance 
is  wrell  shown  by  another  sentence  from  the  MS.  of  our 
veteran..  u 1 found  the  men  seldom  defective,  were  it  not 
for  the  bad  example  set  them  by  their  officers.  ”* 


MS.  pp.  §5. 


CHAPTER  XII 


General  Greene  assumes  command  of  the  Southern  army — his 
Correspondence  with  Marion.— Condition  of  the  Country. 
Marion  and  Lee  surprise  Georgetown. — Col.  Horry  defeats 
Gainey. — Marion  pursues  Me  Ilraith. — -Proposed  pitched  battle 
between  picked  men. 

The  year  1781  opened,  with  new  interest,  the  great 
drama  of  war  in  South  Carolina.  In  that  State,  as  we  have 
seen,  deprived  of  a large  portion  of  her  military  effectives, 
opposition  had  never  entirely  ceased  to  the  progress  of  the 
invader.  New  and  more  strenuous  exertions,  on  the  part 
of  Congress,  were  made  to  give  her  the  necessary  assistance. 
Without  this,  the  war,  prolonged  with  whatever  spirit  by 
the  partisans,  was  not  likely,  because  of  their  deficient 
materiel  and  resources,  to  reach  any  decisive  results.  We 
may  yield  thus  much,  though  we  are  unwilling  to  admit 
the  justice  of  those  opinions,  on  the  part  of  General  Greene 
and  other  officers  of  the  regular  army,  by  which  the  influ- 
ence of  the  native  militia,  on  the  events  of  the  war,  was 
quite  too  much  disparaged.  But  for  this  militia,  and  the 
great  spirit  and  conduct  manifested  by  the  partisan  leaders 
in  Carolina,  no  regular  force  which  Congress  would  or 
could  have  sent  into  the  field,  would  have  sufficed  for  the 
recovery  of  the  two  almost  isolated  States  of  South  Caro- 
lina and  Georgia.  Indeed,  we  are  inclined  to  think  that,  but 
for  the  native  spirit  which  they  had  shown  in  the  conquest, 
no  attempt  would  have  been  made  for  their  recovery.  We 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


187 


should  be  at  a loss,  unless  we  recognized  the  value  of  this 
native  spirit,  and  the  importance  of  its  achievements,  how- 
ever small  individually,  to  determine  by  what  means  these 
States  were  finally  recovered  to  the  American  confederacy 
In  no  single  pitched  battle  between  the  two  grand  armies 
did  the  Americans  obtain  a decided  victory.  The  fruits  of 
victory  enured  to  them,  quite  as  much  in  consequence  of 
the  active  combination  of  the  partisan  captains,  as  by  the 
vigor  of  their  own  arms.  By  these  the  enemy  were 
harassed  with  unparalleled  audacity — their  supplies  and 
convoys  cut  off,  their  detachments  captured  or  cut  to 
piece  s,  their  movements  watched,  and  their  whole  influ- 
ence so  narrowed  and  restrained,  as  to  be  confined  almost 
entirely  to  those  places  where  they  remained  in  strength. 
It  is  not  meant  by  this,  to  lessen  in  any  degree  the  value 
of  the  services  rendered  by  the  Continental  forces.  These 
were  very  great,  and  contributed  in  large  measure  to  bring 
the  war  to  an  early  and  a happy  issue.  It  is  only  intended 
to  insist  upon  those  claims  of  the  partisans,  which,  unassert- 
ed by  themselves,  have  been  a little  too  irreverently  dis- 
missed by  others.  But  for  these  leaders,  Marion,  Sumter, 
Pickens,  Davie,  Hampton,  and  some  fifty  more  well  en- 
dowed and  gallant  spirits,  the  Continental  forces  sent  to 
Carolina  would  have  vainly  flung  themselves  upon  the 
impenetrable  masses  of  the  British. 

It  was  the  vitality  thus  exhibited  by  the  country,  by  the 
native  captains  and  people,  that  persuaded  Congress, 
though  sadly  deficient  in  materials  and  men,  to  make 
another  attempt  to  afford  to  the  South,  the  succor  which 
it  asked.  The  wreck  of  the  army  under  Gates  had  been 
collected  by  that  unfortunate  commander  at  Charlotte, 
North  Carolina.  He  was  superseded  in  its  command  by 
General  Greene,  a soldier  of  great  firmness  and  discretion; 
great  prudence  and  forethought — qualities  the  very  oppo- 


188 


LIFE  OF  M A R I C N 


site  of  those  by  which  his  predecessor  seems  to  have  been 
distinguished.  New  hopes  were  awakened  by  this  change 
of  command,  which,  though  slow  of  fruition,  were  not  finally 
to  be  disappointed.  Greene’s  assumption  of  command  was 
distinguished  by  a happy  augury.  In  a few  hours  after 
reaching  camp  Charlotte,  he  received  intelligence  of  the 
success  of  Lt.-Col  Washington,  against  the  British  post 
held  at  Clermont,  South  Carolina,  by  the  British  Colonel 
Rugely.  Rugely  was  well  posted  in  a redoubt,  which 
was  tenable  except  against  artillery.  Washington’s  force 
consisted  only  of  cavalry.  A pleasant  ruse  de  guerre  of  the 
latter,  which  produced  some  little  merriment  among  the 
Americans  at  the  expense  of  the  British  colonel,  enabled 
Washington  to  succeed.  A pine  log  was  rudely  hewn  into 
the  appearance  of  a cannon,  and,  mounted  upon  wagon 
wheels,  was  advanced  with  solemnity  to  the  attack.  The 
affair  looked  sufficiently  serious,  and  Rugely,  to  avoid  any 
unnecessary  effusion  of  blood,  yielded  the  post.  Corn- 
wallis, drily  commenting  on  the  transaction,  in  a letter  to 
Tarleton,  remarks,  “ Rugely  will  not  be  made  a brigadier.” 

Greene  proceeded  in  the  duties  of  his  command  with 
characteristic  vigilance  and  vigor.  He  soon  put  his  army 
under  marching  orders  for  the  Pedee,  which  river  he  reach- 
ed on  the  26th  of  December.  He  took  post  near  Hicks’ 
Creek,  on  the  east  side  of  the  river.  Before  leaving  camp 
Charlotte,  he  had  judiciously  made  up  an  independent 
brigade  for  General  Morgan,  composed  of  his  most  efficient 
soldiers.  It  consisted  of  a corps  of  light  infantry,  detached 
from  the  Maryland  line,  of  320  men;  a body  of  Virginia 
militia  of  200  men,  and  Washington’s  cavalry,  perhaps  one 
hundred  more.  Morgan  was  to  be  joined,  on  reaching  the 
tract  of  country  assigned  to  his  operations  in  South  Caro- 
lina, by  the  militia  lately  under  Sumter  ; that  gallant  leader 
being  still  hors  de  combat , in  consequence  of  the  severe 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


189 


wound  received  at  Blackstock’s.  The  force  of  Morgan  was 
expected  to  be  still  farther  increased  by  volunteer  militia 
trom  North  Carolina;  and  he  received  a powerful  support 
in  the  co-operation  of  Col.  Pickens,  with  the  well  exercised 
militia  under  his  command. 

The  object  of  this  detachment  was  to  give  confidence 
and  encouragement  to  the  country,  to  inspirit  the  patriots, 
overawe  the  Tories,  and  facilitate  the  accumulation  of  the 
necessary  provisions.  The  main  army  at  Hicks’  Creek,  , 
meanwhile,  formed  a camp  of  repose.  This  was  necessary, 
as  well  as  time  and  training,  to  its  usefulness.  It  was  sadly 
deficient  in  all  the  munitions  and  materials  of  war — the 
mere  skeleton  of  an  army,  thin  in  numbers,  and  in  a me- 
lancholy state  of  nakedness.  “ Were  you  to  arrive,”  says 
Greene,  in  a letter  to  Lafayette, dated  December  29,  “you 
would  find  a few  ragged,  half-starved  troops  in  the  wilder- 
ness, destitute  of  everything  necessary  for  either  the  com- 
fort or  convenience  of  soldiers.”  The  department  was  not 
only  in  a deplorable  condition,  but  the  country  was  laid 
waste.  Such  a warfare  as  had  been  pursued  among  the 
inhabitants,  beggars  description.  The  whole  body  of  the 
population  seems  to  have  been  in  arms,  at  one  time  or 
another,  and,  unhappily,  from  causes  already  discussed,  in 
opposite  ranks.  A civil  war,  as  history  teaches,  is  like  no 
other.  Like  a religious  war,  the  elements  of  a fanatical 
passion  seem  to  work  the  mind  up  to  a degree  of  ferocity, 
which  is  not  common  among  the  usual  provocations  of  hate 
in  ordinary  warfare.  “ The  inhabitants,”  says  Greene, 

“ pursue  each  other  with  savage  fury.  . . . The  Whigs 
and  the  T ories  are  butchering  one  another  hourly.  The  war 
here  is  upon  a very  different  scale  from  what  it  is  to  the 
northward.  It  is  a plain  business  there.  The  geography 
of  the  country  reduces  its  operations  to  two  or  three  points. 
But  here,  it  is  everywhere  ; and  the  country  is  so  full  of 


190 


LIFE  OF  M A K 1 O N . 


deep  rivers  and  impassable  creeks  and  swamps,  that  you  are 
always  liable  to  misfortunes  of  a capital  nature.” 

The  geographical  character  of  the  country,  as  described 
by  Greene,  is  at  once  suggestive  of  the  partisan  warfare. 
It  is  the  true  sort  of  warfare  for  such  a country.  The 
sparseness  of  its  settlements,  and  the  extent  of  its  plains, 
indicate  the  employment  of  cavalry — the  intricate  woods 
and  swamps  as  strikingly  denote  the  uses  and  importance 
^ of  riflemen.  The  brigade  of  Marion  combined  the  quali- 
ties of  both. 

General  Greene,  unlike  his  predecessor,  knew  the  value 
of  such  services  as  those  of  Marion.  On  taking  command 
at  Charlotte,  the  very  day  after  his  arrival,  he  thus  writes 
to  our  partisan  : “ I have  not,”  says  he,  “ the  honor  of  your 
acquaintance,  but  am  no  stranger  to  your  character  and 
merit.  Your  services  in  the  lower  part  of  South  Carolina, 
in  awing  the  Tories  and  preventing  the  enemy  from  extend- 
ing their  limits,  have  been  very  important.  And  it  is  my 
earnest  desire  that  you  continue  where  you  are  until  far- 
ther advice  from  me.  Your  letter  of  the  22d  of  last  month 
to  General  Gates,  is  before  me.  I am  fully  sensible  your 
service  is  hard  and  sufferings  great,  but  how  great  the  prize 
for  which  we  contend ! 1 like  your  plan  of  frequently 
shifting  your  ground.  It  frequently  prevents  a surprise  and 
perhaps  a total  loss  of  your  party.  Until  a more  perma- 
nent army  can  be  collected  than  is  in  the  field  at  present,  we 
must  endeavor  to  keep  up  a partisan  war,  and  preserve 
the  tide  of  sentiment  among  the  people  in  our  favor  as 
much  as  possible.  Spies  are  the  eyes  of  an  army,  and 
without  them  a general  is  always  groping  in  the  dark, 
and  can  neither  secure  himself,  nor  annoy  his  enemy. 
At  present,  I am  badly  off'  for  intelligence.  It  is  of  the 
highest  importance  that  I get  the  earliest  intelligence  of 
any  reinforcement  which  may  arrive  at  Charleston.  I wish 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


191 


you,  therefore,  to  fix  some  plan  for  procuring  such  informa- 
tion and  conveying  it  to  me  with  all  possible  dispatch. 
The  spyT  should  be  taught  to  be  particular  in  his  inquiries 
and  get  the  names  of  the  corps,  strength  and  commanding 
officer’s  name — place  from  whence  they  came  and  where 
they  are  going.  It  will  be  best  to  fix  upon  somebody  in 
town  to  do  this,  and  have  a runner  between  you  and  him  to 
give  you  the  intelligence  ; as  a person  who  lives  out  of  town 
cannot  make  the  inquiries  without  being  suspected.  The 
utmost  secrecy  will  be  necessary  in  the  business.” 

This  letter  found  Marion  at  one  of  his  lurking  places  on 
Black  river.  It  was  properly  addressed  to  him.  He  was 
the  man  who,  of  all  others,  was  not  onlyr  best  acquainted 
with  the  importance  of  good  information,  furnished  prompt- 
ly, but  who  had  never  been  without  his  spies  and  runners, 
from  the  first  moment  when  he  took  the  field.  He  readily 
assumed  the  duty,  and  upon  him  Greene  wholly  relied  for 
his  intelligence  of  every  sort.  Every  occurrence  in  Charles- 
ton, Georgetown,  and  the  whole  low  country,  was  promptly 
furnished  to  the  commander,  to  whom,  however,  Marion 
complains  generally  of  the  embarrassment  in  procuring  intel- 
ligence, arising  from  the  want  of  a little  hard  money — but 
this  want  was  quite  as  great  in  the  camp  of  Greene  as  in 
that  of  the  partisan. 

It  is  probable  that  Marion  had  communicated  to  Gen- 
eral Gates  a desire  to  strengthen  his  militia  with  a small 
force  of  regular  troops.  With  such  a force,  it  was  expect- 
ed that  something  of  a more  decisive  nature  could  be  effected. 
His  eye  was  upon  Georgetown.  The  capture  of  that  post 
was  particularly  desirable  on  many  accounts ; and  if  his  views 
and  wishes  were  not  communicated  to  Gates,  they  were  to 
Greene,  who  subsequently  made  his  dispositions  for  promot- 
ing them.  While  the  latter  was  moving  down  to  his  camp 
at  Hicks’  Creek,  Marion  was  engaged  in  some  very  active 


movements  against  a party  under  McArthur  and  Coffin, 
and  between  that  and  the  High  Hills  of  the  Santee.  To 
cut  off  his  retreat  by  the  Pedee,  a strong  detachment  had 
been  pushed  on  from  Charleston  to  Georgetown,  intended 
to  intercept  him  by  ascending  the  north  bank  of  the  Pedee 
river.  But  Marion,  informed  of  the  movement,  readily 
divined  its  object,  and,  retiring  across  the  country,  took  a 
strong  position  on  Lynch’s  Creek,  in  the  vicinity  of  his  favor- 
ite retreat  at  Snow’s  Island,  where  he  always  kept  a force 
to  guard  his  boats  and  overawe  the  Tories.  The  moment 
his  pursuers  had  left  the  ground,  Marion  resumed  offensive 
operations  upon  it.  In  a short  time,  his  parties  were  push- 
ed down  to  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Georgetown,  on 
all  the  rivers  that  flow  into  the  bay  of  Winyaw.  His  small- 
er parties  were  actively  busy  in  collecting  boats  and  trans- 
ferring provisions  to  Snow’s  Island.  This  was  with  the 
twofold  purpose  of  straitening  the  enemy,  and  supplying 
the  Continental  army.  In  the  meantime,  with  a respecta- 
ble force  of  mounted  infantry,  he  himself  pressed  closely 
upon  the  town,  watching  an  opportunity  when  he  might 
attempt  something  with  a prospect  of  success.  But  the 
British  confined  themselves  to  their  redoubts.  Marion  had 
neither  bayonets  nor  artillery.  With  one  hundred  Conti- 
nental troops — he  writes  with  his  usual  modesty  to  Greene 
— he  should  be  able  to  render  important  services.  While 
thus  employed,  he  received  intelligence  that  the  loyalists 
were  embodying  above  him,  in  great  force,  under  Hector 
McNeill.  They  were  at  Amy’s  Mill  on  Drowning  Creek, 
and  were  emboldened  by  a knowledge  of  the  fact  that 
the  main  army  was  entirely  destitute  of  cavalry.  Marion 
was  not  able  to  detach  a force  sufficient  for  their  disper- 
sion, and  it  would  have  been  fatal  to  his  safety  to  suffer 
them  to  descend  upon  him  while  his  detachments  were 
abroad  His  first  measures  were  to  call  in  his  scattered 


LIFE  OF  MARI  3)  N. 


193 


parties.  He  then  communicated  to  Greene  the  necessity  of 
reinforcing  him  against  his  increasing  enemies,  and,  in  par- 
ticular, of  addressing  himself  to  the  movements  of  McNeill, 
as  he  supposed  them  to  be  directed,  in  part,  against  the 
country  between  the  W accamaw  and  the  sea-coast,  which 
had  never  been  ravaged,  and  which,  at  this  time,  held  abuE- 
dance  of  provisions.  To  this  communication  Greene  re 
plies  : “ I have  detached  Major  Anderson  with  one  thou- 
sand regulars,  and  one  hundred  Virginia  militia,  to  attack 
and  disperse  the  Tories  at  Amy’s  Mill,  on  Drowning  Creek. 
The  party  marched  yesterday  with  orders  to  endeavor  to 
surprise  them ; perhaps  you  might  be  able  to  make  some 
detachment  that  would  contribute  to  their  success.  . . 

I wish  your  answer  respecting  the  practicability  of  surpris- 
ing the  party  near  Nelson’s ; the  route,  and  force  you 
will  be  able  to  detach.  This  inquiry  is  a matter  that  re- 
quires great  secrecy.”  Another  letter  of  Greene’s,  three 
days  after  (January  22d), refers  to  some  “ skirmishes  be- 
tween your  people  and  the  enemy,  which,”  says  Greene, 
‘ do  them  honor,” — but  of  which  we  have  no  particulars. 
The  same  letter  begs  for  a supply  of  horses.  “ Get  as 
many  as  you  can,  and  let  us  have  fifteen  or  twenty  sent  to 
camp  without  loss  of  time,  they  being  wanted  for  immedi- 
ate service.”  By  another  letter,  dated  the  day  after  the 
preceding,  Greene  communicates  to  Marion  the  defeat  of 
Tarleton  by  Morgan,  at  the  celebrated  battle  of  the  Cow- 
pens.  “ On  the  17th  at  daybreak,  the  enemy,  consisting  of 
eleven  hundred  and  fifty  British  troops  and  fifty  militia, 
attacked  General  Morgan,  who  was  at  the  Cowpens,  be- 
tween Pacoletand  Broad  rivers,  with  290  infantry,  eighty 
cavalry  and  about  six  hundred  militia.  The  action  lasted 
fifty  minutes  and  was  remarkably  severe.  Our  brave  troops 
charged  the  enemy  with  bayonets  and  entirely  routed  them, 
killing  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty,  wounding  upwards  of 

9 


194 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


two  hundred,  and  taking  more  than  five  hundred  prisoners, 
exclusive  of  the  prisoners  with  two  pieces  of  artillery, 
thirty-five  wagons,  upwards  of  one  hundred  dragoon  horses, 
and  with  the  loss  of  only  ten  men  billed  and  fifty-five 
wounded.  Our  intrepid  party  pursued  the  enemy  upwards 
of  twenty  miles.  About  thirty  commissioned  officers  are 
among  the  prisoners.  Col.  Tarleton  had  his  horse  killed 
and  was  wounded,  but  made  his  escape  with  two  hundred 
of  his  troops.” 

Before  receiving  this  grateful  intelligence  Marion  had  been 
joined  by  Lieut. -Col.  Lee,  at  the  head  of  a legion  which 
acquired  high  reputation  for  its  spirit  and  activity  during 
the  war.  Lee  tells  us  that  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  find 
our  partisan.  “An  officer,  with  a small  party,  preceded 
Lee  a few  days’  march  to  find  out  Marion,  who  was  known 
to  vary  his  position  in  the  swamps  of  the  Pedee  ; sometimes 
in  South  Carolina,  sometimes  in  North  Carolina,  and  some- 
times on  the  Black  river.  With  the  greatest  difficulty  did 
this  officer  learn  how  to  communicate  with  the  brigadier ; and 
that  by  the  accident  of  hearing  among  our  friends  on  the  south 
side  of  the  Pedee,  of  a small  provision  party  of  Marion’s 
being  on  the  same  side  of  the  river.  Making  himself  known 
to  this  party  he  was  conveyed  to  the  general,  who  had 
changed  his  ground  siffce  his  party  left  him,  which  occasioned 
many  hours’  search  even  before  his  own  men  could  find  him.”* 

This  anecdote  illustrates  the  wary  habits  of  our  par- 
tisan, and  one  of  the  modes  by  which  he  so  successfully  baf- 
fled the  numerous  and  superior  parties  who  were  dispatch- 
ed in  his  pursuit.  We  have  given,  elsewhere,  from  Col. 
Lee’s  memoirs,  a brief  description  of  Marion  and  his  mode 
of  warfare,  taken  from  the  appendix  to  that  woik.  But 
another  occurs,  in  the  text  before  us,  which,  as  it  is  brief, 
differing  somewhat  in  phrase,  and  somewhat  more  compre- 
hensive, than  the  former,  will  no  doubt  contribute  to 
• Lee’s  Memoirs,  vol.  i.  pp,  164. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


195 


the  value  aid  interest  of  our  narrative.  “ Marion,"’ 
says  Lee,  “ was  about  forty-eight  years  of  age,  small 
in  stature,  hard  in  visage,  healthy,  abstemious  and  taci- 
turn. Enthusiastically  wedded  to  the  cause  of  liberty, 
he  deeply  deplored  the  doleful  condition  of  his  beloved 
country.  The  common  weal  was  his  sole  object ; nothing 
selfish,  nothing  mercenary  soiled  his  ermine  character 
Fertile  in  stratagem,  he  struck  unperceived,  and  retiring  to 
those  hidden  retreats  selected  by  himself,  in  the  morasses 
of  Pedee  and  Black  river,  he  placed  his  corps,  not  only 
out  of  the  reach  of  his  foe,  but  often  out  of  the  discovery  of 
his  friends.  A rigid  disciplinarian,  he  reduced  to  practice  the 
justice  of  his  heart ; and  during  the  difficult  course  of  warfare 
though  which  he  passed  calumny  itself  never  charged  him 
with  molesting  the  rights  of  person,  property  or  humanity. 
Never  avoiding  danger,  he  never  rashly  sought  it ; and, 
acting  for  all  around  him  as  he  did  for  himself,  he  risked 
the  lives  of  his  troops  only  when  it  was  necessary.  Never 
elated  with  prosperity,  nor  depressed  by  adversity,  he 
preserved  an  equanimity  which  won  the  admiration  of  his 
friends  and  exalted  the  respect  of  his  enemies.”*- 

Such  were  Lee’s  opinions  of  the  partisan,  to  whose  as- 
sistance he  was  dispatched  by  Greene,  with  his  legion, 
consisting  of  near  three  hundred  men,  horse  and  foot. 

The  junction  of  Lee’s  troops  with  those  of  Marion  led 
to  the  enterprise  which  the  other  had  long  since  had  at 
aeart,  the  capture  of  the  British  garrison  at  Georgetown. 
Georgetown  was  a small  village,  the  situation  and  import- 
ance of  which  have  already  been  described.  The  garrison 
consisted  of  two  hundred  men  commanded  by  Colonel 
Campbell.  His  defences  in  front  were  slight,  and  not  cal- 
culated to  resist  artillery.  “ Between  these  defences  and 
the  town  and  contiguous  to  each,  was  an  enclosed  work 
* Lee’r.  Memoirs,  vol.  ii.  p.  164. 


196 


LIFE  OP  .1  A R I O N . 


with  a frieze  and  palisade,  which  constituted  his  chief 
protection.”*  It  was  held  by  a subaltern  guard.  “The 
rest  of  the  troops  were  dispersed  in  light  parties  in  and 
near  the  town,  and  looking  towards  the  country.”  It  was 
planned  by  the  assailants  to  convey  a portion  of  their  force 
secretly  down  the  Pedee,  and  land  them  in  the  water  suburb  of 
the  town,  which,  being  deemed  secure,  was  left  unguarded. 
This  body  was  then  to  move  in  two  divisions.  The  first 
was  to  force  the  commandant’s  quarters — the  place  of 
parade — to  secure  him,  and  all  others  who  might  flock 
thither  on  the  alarm.  The  second  was  designed  to  inter- 
cept such  of  the  garrison  as  might  endeavor  to  gain  the 
fort.  The  partisan  militia,  and  the  cavalry  of  the  legion, 
led  by  Marion  and  Lee  in  person,  were  to  approach  the 
place  in  the  night,  to  lie  concealed,  and  when  the  entrance 
of  the  other  parties  into  the  town  should  be  announced, 
they  were  to  penetrate  to  their  assistance,  and  put  the 
finishing  stroke  to  the  affair. 

The  plan  promised  well,  but  the  attempt  was  only  par- 
tially successful.  Captain  Carnes,  with  the  infantry  of  the 
legion,  in  boats,  dropped  down  the  Pedee,  sheltered  from 
discovery  by  the  deep  swamps  and  dense  forests  which 
lined  its  banks,  until  he  reached  an  island  at  its  mouth 
within  a few  miles  of  Georgetown.  Here  he  landed,  and 
lay  concealed  during  the  day.  The  night  after,  Marion 
and  Lee  proceeded  to  their  place  of  destination,  which 
they  reached  by  twelve  o’clock,  when,  hearing  the  ex 
pected  signal,  they  rushed  into  the  town,  Marion  leading 
his  militia,  and  Lee  his  dragoons,  prepared  to  bear  down 
all  opposition  ; but  they  found  all  the  work  already  over 
which  it  was  in  the  power  of  the  present  assailants  to 
attempt.  The  two  parties  of  infantry,  the  one  led  by  Carnes 
the  other  by  Rudolph,  had  reached  their  places,  but  per- 
haps not  in  good  season.  The  surprise  was  incomplete. 

* Lee,  vol.  i.p.  249 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


197 


They  delayed  too  long  upon  the  way,  instead  of  pushing 
up  directly  upon  the  redoubt.  They  were  also  delayed  by 
the  desire  of  securing-  the  person  of  the  commandant — an 
unimportant  consideration,  in  comparison  with  the  strong- 
hold of  the  gariison,  which,  assailed  vigorously  at  the  first 
alarm,  must  have  fallen  into  their  hands.  The  command- 
ant was  secured,  and  Carnes  judiciously  posted  his  divi- 
sion for  seizing  such  parties  of  the  garrison  as  might  flock 
to  the  parade-ground.  Rudolph  had  also  gained  his 
appointed  station  in  the  vicinity  of  the  fort,  and  so  distri- 
buted his  corps  as  to  prevent  all  communication  with  it 
But  this  was  not  probably  achieved  with  sufficient  rapidity, 
and  the  garrison  was  strengthening  itself  while  the  Ameri- 
cans were  busy  in  catching  Campbell,  and  cutting  down 
the  fugitives.  When  Marion  and  Lee  appeared,  there 
was  nothing  to  be  done — no  enemy  to  be  seen.  Not  a 
British  soldier  appeared  on  parade — no  one  attempted 
either  to  gain  the  fort  or  repair  to  the  commandant.  The 
troops  of  the  garrison  simply  hugged  their  respective  quar- 
ters, and  barricaded  the  doors.  The  assailants  were  un 
provided  with  the  necessary  implements  for  battering  or 
bombarding.  The  fort  was  in  possession  of  the  British, 
and  daylight  was  approaching.  And  thus  this  bold  and 
brilliant  attempt  was  baffled — it  is  difficult,  at  this  time  of 
day,  to  say  how.  Lee  was  dissatisfied  with  the  result. 
Marion,  more  modestly,  in  a letter  to  Greene,  says  : “ Col. 
Lee  informed  you  yesterday,  by  express,  of  our  little  suc- 
cess on  Georgetown,  which  could  not  be  greater  without 
artillery.”  Lee  says  : “ If,  instead  of  placing  Rudolph’s 
division  to  intercept  the  fugitives,  it  had  been  ordered  to 
carry  the  fort  by  the  bayonet,  our  success  would  have 
been  complete.  The  fort  taken,  and  the  commandant  a 
prisoner,  we  might  have  availed  ourselves  of  the  cannon, 
and  have  readily  demo'ished  every  obstacle  and  shelter.” 


198 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


There  were  probably  several  causes  combined,  which  baf- 
fled the  perfect  success  of  the  enterprise  : the  guides  are 
said  to  have  blundered ; there  was  too  much  time  lost  in 
capturing  Campbell,  and  probably  in  the  prosecution  of  some 
private  revenges.  A circuitous  route  was  taken  by  Carnes, 
when  a direct  one  might  have  been  had,  by  which  his 
entrance  into  the  town  was  delayed  until  near  dayrlight ; 
and,  by  one  account,  the  advance  of  Marion  and  Lee  was 
not  in  season.  The  simple  secret  of  failure  was  probably 
a want  of  concert  between  the  parties,  by  which  the  Bri- 
tish had  time  to  recover  from  their  alarm,  and  put  them- 
selves in  a state  of  preparation.  Many  of  the  British  were 
killed,  few  taken  ; among  the  former  was  Major  Irvine, 
who  was  slain  by  Lieut.  Cryer,  whom,  on  a former  occa- 
sion, he  had  subjected  to  a cruel  punishment  of  five  hun- 
dred lashes.  Lieut. -Col.  Campbell  was  suffered  to  remain 
on  parole. 

Though  failing  of  its  object,  yet  the  audacity  which 
marked  the  enterprise,  and  the  partial  success  of  the  attempt, 
were  calculated  to  have  their  effect  upon  the  fears  of  the 
enemy.  It  was  the  first  of  a series  of  movements  against 
their  several  fortified  posts,  by  which  their  power  was  tG 
be  broken  up  in  detail.  Its  present  effect  was  to  discour- 
age the  removal  of  forces  from  the  seaboard  to  the  interior, 
to  prevent  any  accession  of  strength  to  the  army  of  Corn- 
wallis, who  now,  roused,  by  the  defeat  of  Tarleton,  was 
rapidly  pressing,  with  aL  his  array,  upon  the  heels  of 
Morgan.  The  American  plan  of  operations,  of  which 
this  coup  de  mam  constituted  a particular  of  some  impor- 
tance, had  for  its  object  to  keep  Cornwallis  from  Virginia — 
to  detain  him  in  South  Carolina  until  an  army  of  sufficient 
strength  could  be  collected  for  his  overthrow.  This  plan 
had  been  the  subject  of  much  earnest  correspondence  be- 
tween Greene  Marion,  and  others  of  the  American  officers 


LIFE  OF  MAHION. 


i9y 


That  part  of  it  which  contemplated  the  conquest  of  George- 
town harmonized  immediately  with  the  long  cherished 
objects  of  our  partisan 

Halting  but  a few  hours  to  rest  their  troops,  Marion  and 
Lee,  after  the  attempt  on  Georgetown,  moved  the  same 
day  directly  up  the  north  bank  of  the  Santee  towards 
Nelson’s  Ferry.  Their  object  was  the  surprise  of  Col. 
Watson,  who  had  taken  post  there.  But, though  the  march 
was  conducted  with  equal  caution  and  celerity,  it  became 
known  to  the  threatened  party.  Watson,  consulting  his 
fears,  did  not  wait  to  receive  them ; but, throwing  a garrison 
of  about  eighty  men  into  Fort  Watson,  five  miles  above 
the  ferry,  hurried  off  to  Camden. 

Upon  the  defeat  of  Tarleton  by  Morgan,  General  Greene 
hastened  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  force  conducted 
by  the  latter,  which  was  then  in  full  flight  before  the  su- 
perior army  of  Cornwallis.  Orders  from  Greene  to  Lee 
found  him  preparing  for  further  co-operations  with  Marion, 
which  they  arrested.  Lee  was  summoned  to  join  the 
commander-in-chief  with  his  whole  legion,  and  Marion  was 
thus  deprived  of  the  further  use,  which  he  so  much 
coveted,  of  the  Continentals.  But  this  diminution  of  force  did 
not  lessen  the  activity  of  the  latter.  On  the  29th  January, 
he  sent  out  two  small  detachments  of  thirty  men  each,  under 
Colonel  and  Major  Postell,  to  strike  at  the  smaller  British 
posts  beyond  the  Santee.  These  parties  were  successful 
in  several  affairs.  A great  quantity  of  valuable  stores 
were  burnt  at  Manigault’s  Ferry,  and  in  the  vicinity.  At 
Keithfield,  near  Monk’s  corner,  Major  Posted  captured 
forty  of  the  British  regulars  without  the  loss  of  a man 
Here  also  fourteen  baggage  wagons,  with  ad  their  stores, 
were  committed  to  the  flames.  The  proceedings  of 
these  parties,  conducted  with  caution  and  celerity,  were 
exceedingly  successful.  In  giving  his  instructions  to  the 


■500  LIFE  OF  MARION. 

officers  entrusted  with  these  duties,  Marion  w rites — “ You 
will  eonsidei  provisions  of  all  kinds  British  property.  The 
destruction  of  all  the  British  stores  in  the  above-mentioned 
places,  is  of  the  greatest  consequence  to  us,  and  only  re- 
quires boldness  and  expedition.” 

About  this  time  Marion  organized  four  new  companies 
of  cavalry.  This  proceeding  was  prompted  by  the 
scarcity  of  ammunition.  His  rifles  were  comparatively 
useless,  and  the  want  of  powder  and  ball  rendered  it 
necessary  that  he  should  rely  upon  some  other  weapons. 
To  provide  broadswords  for  his  troops,  he  was  compelled 
once  more  to  put  in  requisition  the  mill  saws  of  the  country, 
and  his  blacksmiths  were  busy  in  manufacturing  blades, 
w hich,  as  we  are  told  by  a contemporary,  were  sufficiently 
keen  and  heavy  to  hew  a man  down  at  a blow.  This  body 
of  cavalry  he  assigned  to  the  command  of  Col.  P.  Horry 
Horry  was  an  admirable  infantry  officer.  His  ability  to 
manage  a squadron  of  cavalry  was  yet  to  be  ascertained. 
He  labored  under  one  disqualification,  as  he  plainly  tells  us 
in  his  own  manuscript  He  was  not  much  of  a horseman. 
But  he  had  several  excellent  officers  under  him.  As  the 
brigade  was  not  strong  enough  to  allow  of  the  employment, 
in  body,  of  his  whole  command,  its  operations  were  com- 
monly by  detachment.  The  colonel,  at  the  head  of  one  of 
Iris  parties  consisting  of  sixty  men,  had  soon  an  opportunity 
of  testing  his  capacity  and  fortune  in  this  new  command 
We  glean  the  adventure  from  his  own  manuscript.  He 
was  sent  to  the  Waccamawto  reconnoitre  and  drive  off 
some  cattle.  After  crossing  Socastee  swamp,  a famous 
resort  for  the  Tories, he  heard  of  a party  of  British  dragoons 
under  Colonel  Campbell.  Horry’s  men  had  found  a fine 
English  charger  hid  in  a swamp.  This  he  was  prevailed 
upon  to  mount,  in  order  to  spare  his  own.  It  so  happened 
somewhat  unfortunately  for  him,  that  he  did  so  with  an 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


20  i 

enemy  at  hand.  With  his  own  horse  he  was  sufficiently 
familiar  to  escape  ordinary  accidents.  It  will  be  seen  that 
lie  incurred  some  risks  with  the  more  spirited  quadruped. 
His  patrol  had  brought  in  a negro,  whom  he  placed  under 
guard.  He  had  in  his  command  a Captain  Clarke,  who 
knowing  the  negro,  set  him  free  during  the  night.  “ Reader  ’ 
says  our  colonel,  with  a serenity  that  is  delightful,  “ be- 
hold a militia  captain  releasing  a prisoner  confined  by  his 
colonel  commandant,  and  see  the  consequence  !”  The 
negro  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  British,  and  conducted  them 
upon  the  steps  of  our  partisan.  It  so  happened  that  the 
same  Captain  Clarke,  who  seems  to  have  been  a sad  simple- 
ton, and  something  of  a poltroon,  had  been  sent  in  front 
with  five  horsemen  as  an  advanced  guard.  Near  the  great 
Waccamaw  road,  the  bugles  of  the  British  were  heard 
sounding  the  charge.  Horry  was  fortunately  prepared  for 
the  enemy,  but  such  was  not  the  case  with  Clarke.  He 
confounded  the  martial  tones  of  the  bugle  with  the  sylvan 
notes  of  the  horn.  “ Stop,”  says  our  militia  captain,  to 
his  men — “ stop,  and  you  will  see  the  deer,  dogs  and  hunts- 
men, as  they  cross  the  road.”  He  himself  happened  to  be 
the  silly  deer.  The  huntsmen  were  upon  him  in  a few 
moments,  and  he  discovered  his  mistake  only  when  their 
broadswords  were  about  his  ears.  He  was  taken,  but 
escaped.  A short  encounter  followed  between  Campbell 
and  Horry,  in  which  the  former  was  worsted.  Six  of  his 
men  fell  at  the  first  fire,  three  slain,  and  as  many  wound- 
ed. Horry’s  pieces  were  common  shot  guns,  and  the  only 
shot  that  he  had  were  swan  shot,  or  the  mischief  would 
have  been  greater.  Campbell’s  horse  was  killed  under 
him,  and  he  narrowly  escaped.  Horry  was  dismounted  in 
the  encounter, — in  what  manner  we  are  not  told, — and 
would  have  been  cut  down  by  a British  sergeant,  but  for 
his  wearing  a uniform  that  resembled  that  of  a British 
colotel.  He  was  helped  to  a horse  at  a most  fortunate 
9* 


202 


LIFE  OF  M A R I 0 ft  . 


moment.  He  did  not  know,  in  consequence  of  the  blunder 
of  Clarke,  that  the  dragoons  whom  he  had  fought  and 
beaten,  were  only  an  advanced  guard  of  a body  of  infantry. 
Horses  and  men  were  in  his  hands,  and,  dividing  his  force, 
he  sent  off  one  party  of  his  men  in  charge  of  the  prisoners 
and  trophies.  A sudden  attack  of  the  British  infantry  took 
the  small  party  which  remained  with  him  totally  by  sur- 
prise. They  broke  and  left  him  almost  alone,  with  nothing 
but  his  small  sword  in  his  hand.  It  was  at  this  moment 
that  a brave  fellow  oi  the  second  regiment,  named  Me 
Donald,  yielded  his  own  pony  to  his  commander,  by  which 
he  escaped.  McDonald  saved  himself  by  darting  into  the 
neighboring  swamp.  The  British,  dreading  an  ambuscade, 
did  not  pursue,  and  Horry  rallied  his  men,  and  returned, 
with  a reinforcement  sent  by  Marion,  to  the  scene  of  battle  ; 
but  the  enemy  had  left  it  and  retired  to  Georgetown, 
Horry  proceeded  to  Sand  Hill,  where,  finding  himself  in 
good  quarters,  among  some  rich  and  friendly  Whigs,  living 
well  on  their  supplies,  he  proceeded  to  entrench  himself  in 
a regular  redoubt.  But  from  this  imposing  situation 
Marion  soon  and  sensibly  recalled  him.  “ He  wrote  me,” 
says  Horry,  “ that  the  open  field  was  our  play — that  the 
enemy  knew  better  how  to  defend  forts  and  entrenched 
places  than  we  did,  and  that  if  we  attempted  it,  we  should 
soon  fall  into  their  hands.”  Marion’s  farther  instructions 
were  to  join  him  immediately,  with  every  man  that  he 
could  bring,  for  that  it  was  his  purpose  to  attack  the  enemy 
as  soon  as  possible.  Horry  admits  that  he  quitted  his  redoubt 
and  good  fare  very  reluctantly.  He  set  out  with  eighty 
men,  but  when  he  joined  his  commander  in  Lynch’s  Creek 
Swamp,  they  were  reduced  to  eighteen.  It  seems  that 
hisTorce  had  been  made  up  in  part  of  new  recruits,  who 
had  but  lately  joined  themselves  to  Marion.  Horry  calls 
them  “wi  d Tories  or  half-made  new  Whigs — volunteers, 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


203 


assuredly  , uot  to  fight,  but  plunder, — who  would  run  at 
the  sight  of  the  enemy.”  His  recent  surprise  and  danger 
had  rendered  the  colonel  sore.  It  was  on  this  occasion, 
that,  as  we  have  already  related,  he  was  nearly  drowned, 
and  only  saved  by  clinging  to  the  impending  branches  of  a 
tree. 

While  Horry  was  skirmishing  with  Campbell,  Major 
John  Postell,  who  was  stationed  to  guard  the  lower  part  of 
the  Pedee,  succeeded  in  capturing  Captain  Depeyster,  with 
twenty-nine  grenadiers.  Depeyster  had  taken  post  in  the 
dwelling-house  of  Postell’s  father.  The  latter  had  with  him 
but  twenty-eight  militia,  but  he  knew  the  grounds,  and 
gaining  possession  of  the  kitchen,  fired  it,  and  was  pre- 
paring to  burn  the  house  also,  when  Depeyster  submitted. 

We  find,  at  this  time,  a correspondence  of  Marion 
with  two  of  the  British  officers,  in  relation  to  the  de- 
tention, as  a prisoner,  of  Captain  Postell,  who,  it  seems, 
though  bearing  a flag,  was  detained  for  trial  by  the  ene- 
my. Portions  of  these  letters,  in  which  Marion  asserts 
his  own  humanity  in  the  treatment  of  prisoners,  we  quote 
as  exhibiting  his  own  sense,  at  least,  of  what  was  the  true 
character  of  his  conduct  in  such  matters.  The  reader  will 
not  have  forgotten  the  charges  made  against  him,  in  this 
respect,  in  an  earlier  part  of  this  volume  by  Lt.-Col.  Balfour, 
in  a letter  to  General  Moultrie.  One  of  the  present  letters 
of  Marion  is  addressed  to  Balfour. 

“lam  sorry  to  complain  of  the  ill  treatment  my  officers 
and  men  meet  with  from  Captain  Saunders.  The  officers 
are  closely  confined  in  a small  place  where  they  can  neither 
stand  nor  lie  at  length,  nor  have  they  more  than  half  rations. 
I have  treated  your  officers  and  men  who  have  fallen  into 
my  hands,  in  a different  manner.  Should  these  evils  not 
be  prevented  in  future,  it  will  not  be  in  my  power  to  pre- 
vent retaliation  Lord  Rawdon  and  Col.  Watson  have 


204 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


Ranged  three  men  of  my  brigade  for  supposed  crimes 
which  will  make  as  many  of  your  men,  in  my  hands,  suffer.” 

Again,  on  the  same  subject,  in  a letter  to  Col.  Watson — 
<L  The  hanging  of  prisoners  and  the  violation  of  my  flag, 
will  be  retaliated  if  a stop  is  not  put  to  such  proceedings, 
which  are  disgraceful  to  all  civilized  nations.  All  of  your 
officers  and  men,  who  have  fallen  into  my  hands,  have  been 
treated  with  humanity  and  tenderness,  and  I wish  sincerely 
that  I may  not  be  obliged  to  act  contrary  to  my  inclination.” 

The  British  officers  thus  addressed,  alleged  against 
Postell  that  he  had  broken  his  parole.  If  this  were  so,  it 
was  a just  cause  of  detention  ; but  it  will  be  remem- 
bered that  the  British  themselves  revoked  these  paroles  on 
the  assumption  that  the  province  was  conquered,  and  when, 
as  citizens,  they  wished  to  exact  military  service  from  the 
people.  In  these  circumstances  the  virtue  of  the  obligation 
was  lost,  and  ceased  on  the  part  of  the  citizen,  because  oi 
the  violation  on  the  part  of  the  conqueror,  of  the  immuni- 
ties which  he  promised.  Marion  took  decisive  measures 
for  compelling  the  necessary  respect  to  his  flag,  by  seizing 
upon  Captain  Merritt,  the  bearer  of  a British  flag,  and  put- 
ting him  in  close  keeping  as  a security  for  Postell.  We 
do  not  know  that  he  retaliated  upon  the  British  soldiers 
the  cruel  murders,  by  hanging,  which  had  been  practised 
upon  his  own.  His  nature  would  probably  recoil  from 
carrying  Iris  own  threat  into  execution.  In  answer  to  one 
of  Marion’s  reproaches,  we  are  told  by  Col.  Watson,  that 
<c  the  burning  of  houses  and  the  property  of  the  inhabitants, 
who  are  our  enemies,  is  customary  in  all  civilized  nations.” 
The  code  of  civilisation  is  certainly  susceptible  of  liberal 
constructions.  Its  elasticity  is  not  the  least  of  its  mar  y 
merits. 

Cornwallis  pursued  Greene  into  North  Carolina,  and 
after  much  manceuvering  between  tl.  e armies,  they  met  at 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


205 


Guilford  on  the  15th  of  March,  1781.  The  honors  of  the 
victory,  small  as  it  was,  lay  with  the  British.  Their  loss, 
however,  was  such,  that  the  advantages  of  the  field  enur- 
ed to  the  Americans.  From  this  field,  Cornwallis  took 
his  way  to  Virginia,  and  his  career  as  a commander  in 
America  was  finally  arrested  at  the  siege  of  York.  During 
the  absence  of  Greene  from  South  Carolina,  Marion’s  was 
the  only  force  in  active  operation  against  the  British.  An 
opportunity  so  favorable  for  harassing  and  distressing  the 
enemy,  as  that  afforded  by  the  absence  of  their  main  army 
in  North  Carolina,  was  not  neglected;  and,  calling  in  his 
detachments,  he  once  more  carried  dismay  into  the  heart 
of  the  Tory  settlements,  on  both  sides  ol  the  Santee.  His 
incursions,  and  those  of  his  officers,  were  extended  as  far 
as  the  confluence  of  the  Congaree  and  Wateree,  and  as  low 
down  as  Monk’s  Corner, — thus  breaking  up  the  line  of 
communication  between  Charleston  and  the  grand  army, 
and  intercepting  detachments  and  supplies,  sent  from  that 
place  to  the  line  of  posts  established  through  the  country 
This  sort  of  warfare,  which  seldom  reaches  events  such  as 
those  which  mark  epochs  in  the  progress  of  great  bodies 
of  men,  is  yet  one  which  calls  for  constant  activity.  We 
have  details  of  but  few  of  the  numerous  conflicts  which 
took  place  between  our  partisan  and  the  Tory  leaders 
These  were  scattered  over  the  country,  living  by  plunder, 
and  indulging  in  every  species  of  ferocity.  Greene  writes, 
“ The  Whigs  and  Tories  are  continually  out  in  small  parties, 
and  all  the  middle  country  is  so  disaffected,  that  you  can- 
not lay  in  the  most  trifling  magazine  or  send  a wagon 
through  the  country  with  the  least  article  of  stores  without 
a guard.”  In  addressing  himself  to  this  sort  of  warfare, 
Marion  was  pursuing  a course  of  the  largest  benefit  to  the 
country.  In  overawing  these  plunderers,  subduing  the 
savage  spirit,  and  confining  the  British  to  their  strong 


20G 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


places,  he  was  acquiring  an  importance,  which,  if  we  are 
to  esf  mate  the  merits  of  a leader  only  by  the  magnitude  of 
his  victories,  will  leave  us  wholly  at  a loss  to  know  by 
what  means  his  great  reputation  was  acquired.  But  the 
value  of  his  services  is  best  gathered  from  the  effect  which 
they  had  upon  the  enemy.  The  insults  and  vexations 
which  he  unceasingly  occasioned  to  the  British,  were  not 
to  be  borne  ; and  Col.  VYatson  was  dispatched  with  a se- 
lect force  of  five  hundred  men  to  hunt  him  up  and  destroy 
him.  We  have  seen  Tarleton  and  others  engaged  in  the 
pursuit,  but  without  success.  Watson  was  destined  to  be 
less  fortunate.  In  the  meanwhile,  and  before  Watson  came 
upon  his  trail,  Col.  Peter  Horry  had  been  engaged  in  a 
series  of  petty  but  rather  amusing  skirmishes,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Georgetown.  A party  of  the  British  were 
engaged  in  killing;  beeves  at  White’s  bridge  near  George- 
town.  Horry’s  men  charged  them  while  at  this  employ- 
ment, and  killing  some,  pursued  the  rest  towards  that  place. 
The  firing  was  heard  in  the  town,  and  the  facts  of  the  case 
conjectured.  This  brought  out  a reinforcement,  before 
which  the  detachment  of  Horry  was  compelled  to  retreat 
But,  on  gaining  the  woods,  they  were  joined  also  by  their 
friends  ; and  the  fight  was  resumed  between  the  Sampit 
and  Black  river  roads,  with  a dogged  fierceness  on  both 
sides,  that  made  it  particularly  bloody.  In  the  course  of 
the  struggle,  Horry  at  one  moment  found  himself  alone 
His  men  were  more  or  less  individually  engaged,  and 
scattered  through  the  woods  around  him.  His  only  wea- 
pon was  his  small  sword.  In  this  situation  he  was  sud- 
denly assailed  by  a Tory  captain,  named  Lewis,  at  the  head 
of  a small  party.  Lewis  was  armed  with  a musket,  and 
.n  t.re  act  of  firing,  when  a sudden  shot  from  the  woods 
tumjled  him  from  his  horse,  in  the  very  moment  when  his 
own  gun  was  discharged.  The  bullet  of  Lewis  took  effect 


V 


Sergeant  McDonald  pursuing  Major  Gainey. — Page  207. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


207 


in  Horry's  horse.  The  shot  which  sc  seasonably  slew 
the  Tory,  had  been  sent  by  the  hands  of  a boy  named 
Gwin.  The  party  of  Lewis,  apprehending  an  ambush, 
immediately  fell  back  and  put  themselves  in  cover.  The 
conflict  lasted  through  the  better  part  of  the  day,  one  side 
gaining  ground,  and  now  the  other.  It  closed  in  the  final 
defeat  of  the  enemy,  who  were  pursued  with  a savage  and 
unsparing  spirit.  One  half  of  their  number  were  left  dead 
upon  the  ground.  Their  leader  was  Major  Gainey. 
Great  expectations  were  formed  of  his  ability  to  cope  with 
Marion.  On  this  occasion,  though  he  made  his  escape, 
his  mode  of  doing  so  was  characterized  by  a peculiar  cir- 
cumstance, which  rendered  it  particularly  amusing  to  one 
side  and  annoying  to  the  other.  He  was  singled  out  in  the 
chase  by  Sergeant  McDonald,  a fierce  young  fellow,  who 
was  admirably  mounted.  Gainey  was  fortunate  in  being 
well  mounted  also.  McDonald,  regarding  but  the  one 
enemy,  passed  all  others.  He  himself  said  that  he  could 
have  slain  several  in  the  chase.  But  he  wished  for  no 
meaner  object  than  their  leader.  One  man  alone  who 
threw  himself  in  the  way  of  the  pursuit  became  its  victim. 
Him  he  shot  down,  and,  as  they  went  at  full  speed  down 
the  Black  river  road,  at  the  corner  of  Richmond  fence, 
the  sergeant  had  gained  so  far  upon  his  enemy,  as  to  be 
able  to  plunge  his  bayonet  into  his  back.  The  steel  sepa 
rated  from  his  gun,  and, with  no  time  to  extricate  it,  Gainey 
rushed  into  Georgetown,  with  the  weapon  still  conspi- 
cuously showing  how  close  and  eager  had  been  the 
chase,  and  how  narrow  the  escape.  The  wound  was  not 
fatal. 

The  next  affair  was  with  Col.  Tynes,  who  had  been  de- 
feated by  Marion  some  time  before,  made  prisoner  and  sent 
to  North  Carolina.  But  the  North  Carolina  jailors  seem 
to  have  been  pretty  generally  Tories,  fi  we  find  Horrv 


208 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


complaining  that  they  discharged  the  prisoners  quite  as  fast 
as  they  were  sent  there  ; and  it  was  the  complaint  of  some 
of  Marion’s  officers  that  they  had  to  fight  the  same  persons 
in  some  instances,  not  less  than  three  or  four  times.  Tynes 
had  collected  a second  force,  and, penetrating  the  forests  of 
Black  river,  was  approaching  the  camp  of  our  partisan 
Marion  went  against  him,  fell  upon  him  suddenly,  com- 
pletely routed  him,  taking  himself  and  almost  his  whole 
party  prisoners.  He  made  his  escape  a second  time  from 
North  Carolina,  and  with  a third  and  larger  force  than  ever, 
re-appeared  in  the  neighborhood  of  Marion’s  camp.  Horry 
was  sent  against  him  with  forty  chosen  horsemen.  He 
travelled  all  night,  and  stopped  the  next  day  at  the  house 
of  a Tory,  where  he  obtained  refreshments.  His  men  suc- 
ceeded in  obtaining  something  more.  The  Tory  most  lib- 
erally filled  their  canteens  with  apple-brandy ; and  when 
the  Colonel  got  within  striking  distance  of  Tynes  and  his 
Tories,  scarcely  one  of  his  troops  was  fit  for  action.  He 
prudently  retreated,  very  much  mortified  with  the  transac- 
tion. Marion  captured  a part  of  Tynes’  force  a few  days 
after,  and  this  luckless  loyalist  seems  to  have  disappeared 
from  the  field  from  that  moment. 

Watson’s  march  against  Marion  was  conducted  with 
great  caution.  The  operations  of  the  partisan,  meanwhile, 
were  continued  without  interruption.  About  the  middle 
of  February,  he  was  apprised  of  the  march  of  Major  Mc- 
Ilraith  from  Nelson’s  Ferry,  at  the  head  of  a force  fully 
equal  to  his  own.  This  British  officer  seems  to  have  been 
singularly  unlike  his  brethren  in  some  remarkable  particu- 
lars. He  took  no  pleasure  in  burning  houses,  the  hospitality 
of  which  he  had  enjoyed ; he  destroyed  no  cattle  wantonly, 
and  huno;  no  unhappy  prisoner.  The  story  goes  that  while 
Marion  was  pressing  upon  the  steps  of  the  enemy,  he 
paused  at  the  house  of  a venerable  lady  who  had  been 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


209 


always  a friend  to  the  Whigs,  and  who  now  declared  her 
unhappiness  at  seeing  him  Her  reason  being  asked, 
she  declared  that  she  conjectured  his  purpose — that  he  was 
pursuing  Mcllraith,  and  that  so  honorable  and  gentle  had 
been  the  conduct  of  that  officer,  on  his  march,  that  she  was 
really  quite  unwilling  that  he  should  suffer  harm,  though 
an  enemy.  What  he  heard  did  not  impair  Marion’s  activ- 
ity, but  it  tended  somewhat  to  subdue  those  fiercer  feelings 
which  ordinarily  governed  the  partisans  in  that  sanguinary 
warfare.  He  encountered  and  assailed  Mcllraith  on  the 
road  near  Half-way  Swamp,  first  cutting  off  two  picquets 
in  his  rear  in  succession,  then  wheeling  round  his  main 
body,  attacked  him  at  the  same  moment  in  flank  and  front. 
Mcllraith  was  without  cavalry,  and  his  situation  was  per- 
ilous in  the  extreme.  But  he  was  a brave  fellow,  and 
Marion  had  few  bayonets.  By  forced  marches  and  con- 
stant skirmishing,  the  British  major  gained  an  open  field 
upon  the  road.  He  posted  himself  within  the  enclosure 
upon  the  west  of  the  road.  Marion  pitched  his  camp  on 
the  edge  of  a large  cypress  pond,  which  lay  on  the  east, 
and  closely  skirted  the  highway.  Here  Mcllraith  sent 
him  a flag,  reproaching  him  with  shooting  his  picquets,  con- 
trary, as  he  alleged,  to  all  the  laws  of  civilized  warfare,  and 
concluded  with  defying  him  to  combat  in  the  open  field. 
The  arguments  of  military  men,  on  the  subject  of  the  laws 
of  civilized  warfare,  are  sometimes  equally  absurd  and  im 
pertinent.  Warfare  itself  is  against  all  the  laws  of  civiliza 
tion,  and  there  is  something  ludicrous  in  the  stronger  re 
proaching  the  feebler  power,  that  it  should  resort  to  such 
means  as  are  in  its  possession,  for  reconciling  the  inequalities 
of  force  between  them.  Marion’s  reply  toMcIlraith  was  suf- 
ficiently to  the  purpose.  He  said  that  the  practice  of  the 
British  in  burning  the  property  of  those  who  would  not  sub- 
mit and  join  them,  was  much  more  indefensible  than  that 


210 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


of  shooting  picquets,  and  that  while  they  persisted  in  the 
one  practice,  he  should  certainly  persevere  in  the  other 
As  to  the  challenge  of  Mcllraith,  he  said  that  he  considered 
it  that  of  a pian  whose  condition  was  desperate ; but  con' 
eluded  with  saying  that  if  he,  Mcllraith,  wished  to  witness 
a combat  between  twenty  picked  soldiers  on  each  side,  he 
was  not  unwilling  to  gratify  him. 

Here  was  a proposal  that  savored  something  of  chivalry. 
Mcllraith  agreed  to  the  suggestion,  and  an  arrangemen* 
was  made  for  a meeting.  The  place  chosen  for  the  com- 
bat was  in  a part  of  a field,  which  is  very  well  known, 
south  of  an  old  oak  tree,  which  was  still,  up  to  the  year 
1821,  pointed  out  to  the  stranger.  It  may  be  standing  to 
this  day,  for  the  oak  outlasts  many  generations  of  brave 
men.  Marion  chose  for  the  leader  of  his  band,  Major  John 
Vanderhorst,  then  a supernumerary  officer  in  his  brigade. 
The  second  in  command  was  Capt.  Samuel  Price,  of  All 
Saints.  The  names  of  the  men  were  written  on  slips  of 
paper  and  handed  to  them  severally.  Gavin  Witherspoon 
received  the  first.  The  names  of  the  others  are  not  pre- 
served. Not  one  of  them  refused.  When  they  were  sepa- 
rated from  their  comrades,  they  were  paraded  near  the 
fence,  and  Marion  addressed  them  in  the  following  lan- 
guage : 

“My  brave  soldiers!  you  are  twenty  men  picked  this 
day  out  of  my  whole  brigade.  I know  you  all,  and  have 
often  witnessed  your  bravery.  In  the  name  of  your  coun- 
try, I call  upon  you  once  more  to  show  it.  My  confidence 
in  you  is  great.  I am  sure  it  will  not  be  disappointed. 
Fight  like  men,  as  you  have  always  done — and  you  are 
sure  of  the  victory.” 

The  speech  was  short,  but  it  was  effectual.  It  was,  per- 
haps, a long  one  for  Marion.  His  words  were  usually  few, 
but  they  were  always  to  the  purpose.  More  words  were 


UFE  OF  MARION. 


211 


unnecessary  here.  The  combatants  heard  him  with  pride, 
and  hailed  his  exhortations  witlr  applause.  While  their 
cheers  were  loudest,  Marion  transferred  them  to  their 
leader. 

Vanderhorst  now  asked  Witherspoon,  “ at  what  dis- 
tance he  would  prefer,  as  the  most  sure  to  strike  with  buck- 
shot ?” 

“ Fifty  yards,  for  the  first  fire,”  was  the  answer. 

“ Then,”  said  Vanderhorst,  “ when  we  get  within  fifty 
yards,  as  lam  not. a good  judge  of  distances,  Mr.  Wither- 
spoon will  tap  me  on  the  shoulder.  I will  then  give  the 
word,  my  lads,  and  you  will  form  on  my  left  opposite  these 
fellows.  As  you  form,  each  man  will  fire  at  the  one  di- 
rectly opposite,  and  my  word  for  it,  few  will  need  a second 
shot.” 

Nothing,  indeed,  was  more  certain  than  this  ; and  how 
Mcllraith  proposed  to  fight  with  any  hope  of  the  result, 
knowing  how  deadly  was  the  aim  of  the  Americans,  is  be- 
yond conjecture.  If  he  relied  upon  the  bayonet,  as  ner- 
haps  he  did,  his  hope  must  have  rested  only  upon  those 
who  survived  the  first  fire ; and  with  these,  it  was  only  ne- 
cessary for  the  Americans  to  practise  the  game  of  the  sur- 
vivor of  the  Horatii,  in  order  to  gain  as  complete  a victory. 
They  had  but  to  scatter  and  re-load — change  their  ground, 
avoid  the  push  of  the  bayonet,  till  they  could  secure  a se- 
cond shot,  and  that  certainly  would  have  finished  the  busi- 
ness. But  Mcllraith  had  already  reconsidered  the  pro- 
ceeding. His  men  were  formed  in  a straight  line  in  front 
of  the  oak.  Vanderhorst  was  advancing  and  had  got  within 
one  hundred  yards,  when  a British  officer  was  seen  to  pass 
hurriedly  to  the  detachment,  and  the  next  moment  the  men 
retreated,  with  a quick  step,  towards  the  main  body.  Van- 
derhorst and  his  party  gave  three  huzzas,  but  not  a shot 
was  fired 


212 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


Mcllraith  committed  two  errors.  He  should  not  have 
made  the  arrangement,  but,  once  made,  he  should  have  suf- 
fered it  to  go  on  at  all  hazards.  The  effect  was  discredita 
ble  to  himself,  and  detrimental  to  the  efficiency  of  his  men 
Marion  would  have  fought  his  enemy  all  day  on  the  same 
terms.  His  followers  were  on  their  own  ground,  with  a 
familiar  weapon,  while  the  soldiers  of  the  British  were  de- 
prived of  all  their  usual  advantages — the  assurance  of  sup- 
port after  the  fire  of  the  enemy  was  drawn.  » The  militia 
seldom  stood  the  encounter  of  the  bayonet,  but  they  as 
seldom  failed  to  do  famous  execution  with  the  first  two  or 
three  discharges. 

That  night  Mcllraith  abandoned  his  heavy  baggage,  left 
fires  burning,  and  retreating  silently  from  the  ground,  hur- 
ried, with  all  dispatch,  along  the  river  road  towards  Sin- 
gleton’s Mills,  distant  ten  miles.  Marion  discovered  the 
retreat  before  daylight,  and  sent  Col.  Hugh  Horry  forward 
with  one  hundred  men,  to  get  in  advance  of  him  before  he 
should  reach  the  mill.  But  Horry  soon  found  this  to  be 
impossible,  and  he  detached  Major  James,  at  the  head  of 
a select  party,  well  mounted  on  the  swiftest  horses,  with 
instructions  to  cross  the  mill-pond  above,  and  take  posses- 
sion of  Singleton’s  houses.  These  standing  on  a high  hill, 
commanded  a narrow  defile  on  the  road  between  the  hill 
and  the  Wateree  swamp.  James  reached  the  house  as 
the  British  advanced  to  the  foot  of  the  hill.  But  here  he 
found  a new  enemy,  which  his  foresters  dreaded  much  more 
than  the  British  or  Tories — the  small-pox.  Singleton’s 
family  were  down  with  it,  and  James  shrank  from  availing 
himself  of  any  advantage  offered  by  the  situation.  But 
before  he  retired,  one  of  his  men,  resting  his  rifle  against  a 
tree,  shot  the  officer  of  the  British  advance.  He  was 
mortally  wounded,  and  died  the  next  day.  Marion  was 
displeased  with  this  achievement.  The  forbearance  oJ 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


213 


M«JL'.\ith,  while  passing  through  the  country,  had  touch- 
ed his  heart.  He  withdrew  his  forces,  not  displeased  that 
his  enemy  had  secured  a stronghold  in  Singleton’s  Mill 
The  conscientiousness  of  the  British  officer  is  said  to  have 
incurred  the  displeasure  of  his  commander,  and  that  of  his 
brother  officers.  When  he  reached  Charleston  he  was  put 
into  Coventry.  Our  authorities  ascribe  this  to  his  gratui- 
tous humanity,  his  reluctance  to  burn  and  plunder,  with  such 
excellent  examples  before  him,  as  Cornwallis  and  Tarle- 
ton.  We  rather  suspect,  however,  that  it  was  in  conse- 
quence of  the  unfortunate  issue  of  the  pitched  battle,  as 
agreed  upon  between  himself  and  Marion ; a more  proba- 
ble cause  of  odium  among  his  comrades,  than  any  reluc- 
tance, which  he  hi'ghi  cxpie»»,  to  violate  the  common  laws 
of  humanity. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Watson  and  Doyle  pursue  Marion. — He  baffles  and  narassea 

them — Pursues  Doyle. — His  despondency,  and  final  resolu- 
tion. 

The  preparations  of  Col.  Watson  for  pursuing  and 
lestroying  our  partisan  in  his  stronghold,  were  at  length 
complete.  He  sallied  forth  from  Fort  Watson  about  the 
first  of  March,  and,  with  a British  regiment  and  a large 
body  of  loyalists— a force  quite  sufficient,  as  was  thought, 
for  the  desired  object — marched  down  the  Santee,  shaping 
his  course  for  Snow’s  Island.  At  the  same  time,  Col. 
Doyle,  at  the  head  of  another  British  regiment,  intended 
for  co-operation  with  Watson,  was  directed  to  proceed  by 
way  of  M‘Callum’s  Ferry,  on  Lynch’s,  and  down  Jeffers’ 
Creek,  to  the  Pedee.  Here  they  were  to  form  a junction. 

Marion  had  no  force  to  meet  these  enemies  in  open 
combat.  His  number  did  not  much  exceed  three  hundred, 
but  he  had  other  resources  of  his  own  which  better  served 
to  equalize  them.  Doyle’s  approach  was  slow,  and  it 
seems  partially  unsuspected.  In  fact,  in  order  to  meet  his 
enemies,  and  make  the  most  of  his  strength,  Marion  had 
generally  called  in  his  scouting  parties.  Of  Watson’s 
movements  he  had  ample  information.  His  scouts,  well 
provided  with  relays  of  horses,  traversed  the  country  be- 
tween his  camp  and  Camden.  Advised  correctly  of  Wat- 
son’s progress,  he  made  one  of  those  rapid  marches  foi 
which  he  was  famous,  and  met  him  at  Wiboo  Swamp, 
about  midway  between  Nelson’s  and  Murray’s  ferries. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


215 


A.t  this  place  commenced  a conflict  as  remaikable  as  it 
was  protracted.  The  advance  of  Watson  consisted  of  the 
Tory  horse,  under  Col.  Richbourg.  Col.  Peter  Horry  led 
Marion’s  advance,  consisting  of  about  thirty  men.  The 
remainder  of  the  brigade  lay  in  reserve.  The  encounter 
of  the  two  advanced  parties  produced  a mutual  panic, 
both  recoiling  upon  their  main  bodies  ; but  that  of  Horry 
was  the  first  to  recover ; and  the  command  to  charge, 
given  by  Marion  himself,  produced  the  desired  effect. 
Horry  was  at  length  driven  back  by  Watson’s  regulars,  and 
the  field-pieces,  which  finally  dislodged  him.  They  were 
pursued  by  the  Tory  horse  of  Harrison,  which,  pressing 
upon  the  main  body,  gained  some  advantages  ; and,  in  the 
uncertainty  of  the  event,  while  there  was  some  confusion, 
afforded  an  opportunity  for  several  instances  of  great  indi- 
vidual valor.  As  the  column  of  Harrison  pressed  over  the 
causeway,  which  was  narrow,  Gavin  James,  a private 
of  great  spirit  and  gigantic  size,  mounted  on  a strong 
grey  horse,  and  armed  with  musket  and  bayonet,  threw 
himself  in  advance  of  his  comrades,  and  directly  in  the 
path  of  the  enemy.  Taking  deliberate  aim,  he  fired  his 
piece,  dropped  his  man,  and  drew  a volley  from  those  in 
front  of  him,  not  a shot  of  which  took  effect.  His  deter- 
mined position  and  presence,  in  the  centre  of  the  narrow 
causewray,  produced  a pause  in  the  advance.  A dragoon 
rushed  upon  him,  and  was  stricken  down  by  the  bayonet. 
A second,  coming  to  the  assistance  of  his  comrade,  shared 
the  same  fate,  but,  in  falling,  laid  hold  of  the  muzzle  of 
James’  musket,  and  was  dragged  by  him  in  the  retreat 
some  forty  or  fifty  paces.  This  heroism  was  not  without 
its  effect.  If  the  men  of  Marion  faltered  for  a moment, 
such  examples,  and  the  voice  of  their  general,  re-invigor- 
ated their  courage.  Capts.  Macauley  and  Conyers,  at  the 
head  of  the  cavalry,  arrested  the  advance  of  the  Tories 


216 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


and  Harrison  himself  fell,  mortally  wounded,  by  the  hands 
of  Conyers.  The  Tories  were  dispersed,  and  sought  shel- 
ter from  the  infantry  of  W atson,  before  the  advance  of 
which  Marion  deemed  it  prudent  for  the  time  to  retire. 

Marion  lost  nothing  by  this  meeting.  Its  effect  upon 
the  Tories  was  highly  beneficial.  They  had  suffered 
severely  in  killed  and  wounded,  and  were  thus  intimi 
dated  at  the  outset.  Watson  encamped  that  night  on  the 
field  of  battle,  and  Marion  a few  miles  below.  The  next 
morning  the  pursuit  was  resumed.  Watson  marched  down 
the  river,  Marion  keeping  just  sufficiently  ahead,  of  him  to 
be  able  to  post  an  ambuscade  for  him  at  the  first  point  that 
seemed  suitable  for  such  a purpose.  At  Mount  Hope, 
Watson  had  to  build  up  the  bridges,  and  sustain  a second 
conflict  with  a chosen  party  of  Marion’s,  led  by  Col.  Hugh 
Horry.  By  bringing  forward  his  field-pieces,  and  drilling 
the  swamp  thickets  with  grape,  he  succeeded  in  expelling 
Horry,  and  clearing  the  way  for  his  column.  But  the  same 
game  was  to  be  renewed  with  every  renewal  of  the  oppor- 
tunity. 

When  Watson  drew  near  to  Murray’s  Ferry,  he  passed 
the  Kingstree  road  ; and,  coming  to  that  of  Black  river, 
which  crosses  at  the  lower  bridge,  he  made  a feint  of  still 
continuing  along  the  Santee ; but  soon  after  wheeled 
about,  and  took  the  former  route.  This  manoeuvre  might 
have  deceived  a less  wary  antagonist  than  Marion.  He 
was  soon  aware  of  the  enemy’s  intention.  Detaching 
Major  James,  at  the  head  of  seventy  men,  thirty  of  whom 
were  M‘Cottry’s  rifles,  he  ordered  him  to  destroy 
the  bridge,  and  so  post  himself  as  to  command  it. 
He  himself  kept  his  eye  fixed  upon  Watson.  This 
bridge  was  on  the  main  pass  to  Williamsburg,  and 
the  men  chosen  for  its  defence  were  judiciously  taken 
from  that  part  of  the  country.  It  was  naturally  sup- 


LIFE  OF  MARION, 


217 


posed  that,  in  sight  of  their  cottage  smokes,  they  would 
struggle  manfully  against  the  enemy’s  forces. 

James  proceeded  with  great  rapidity,  and,  avoiding  the 
road,  crossed  the  river  by  a shorter  route.  He  reached  the 
bridge  in  time  to  throw  down  two  of  the  middle  arches, 
and  to  tire  the  string  pieces  at  the  eastern  extremity.  As 
soon  as  the  chasm  was  made,  he  placed  M‘Cottry’s  rifle- 
men at  the  end  of  the  bridge  and  on  each  side  of  the  ford. 
The  rest  of  his  detachment  were  so  stationed  as  to  co- 
operate, when  required,  with  their  comrades.  Marion 
arriving  soon  after,  strengthened  the  force  of  James  with 
the  Pedee  company  under  Captain  Potts,  and  took  post 
himself,  with  the  main  body,  in  the  rear.  These  arrange- 
ments had  scarcely  been  effected  when  Watson  made  his  ap- 
pearance. At  this  place  the  west  bank  of  the  river  is  con- 
siderably higher  than  the  east.  The  latter  is  low  and 
somewhat  swampy.  On  the  west,  the  road  passes  to  the 
oridge  through  a ravine.  The  river  was  forty  or  fifty  yards 
wide,  and  though  deep,  was  fordable  below  the  bridge. 
The  ravine  was  commanded  by  M‘Cottry’s  rifles.  As  soon 
as  Watson  approached  the  river,  which  he  did  from  the 
west,  his  field-pieces  opened  upon  the  passage  which  con- 
ducted to  the  ford.  But  the  position  assigned  to  Marion’s 
men,  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  river,  effectually  protected 
them.  To  bring  the  field-pieces  to  bear  upon  the  low 
grounds  which  they  occupied,  was  to  expose  the  artillerists, 
upon  the  elevated  banks  which  they  occupied,  to  the  de- 
liberate and  fatal  fire  of  the  riflemen.  Watson  was  soon 
made  aware  of  the  difficulties  of  the  passage.  Not  a man 
approached  within  gun-shot  that  did  not  pay  the  penalty  ot 
his  rashness  ; and  those  who  drew  nigh  to  succor  or  carry 
off  the  wounded,  shared  the  same  fate.  It  was  determined 
to  attempt  the  ford,  and  the  advance  was  put  forward,  as  a 
forlorn  hope,  with  this  desperate  purpose.  The  officer 

10 


218 


LIFE  OF  MARIO. V. 


leading  it,  came  on  very  gallantly,  waving  his  sword  aloft 
and  loudly  encouraging  his  men.  His  progress  was  fatally 
arrested  by  M‘Cottry’s  ride.  The  signal  drew  the  fire 
of  the  rifiemen  and  musketeers,  with  whom  the  banks  were 
lined,  and  the  heavy  and  deliberate  discharge  drove  back 
and  dispersed  the  British  advance,  nor  did  the  reserve  move 
forward  to  its  assistance.  Four  brave  fellows  attempted  to 
carry  otf  the  officer  who  had  fallen,  but  they  remained  with 
him. 

Watson  was  terrified.  He  was  heard  to  say  that  “ he 
had  never  seen  such  shooting  in  his  life.”  There  was  no 
effecting  the  passage  in  the  face  of  such  enemies,  and  steal- 
ing down  to  the  banks  of  the  river,  on  the  side  widen  they 
occupied,  and  wherever  the  woods  afforded  shelter,  the 
British  skirmished  with  Marion’s  flankers  across  the  stream 
until  night  put  an  end  to  the  conflict. 

The  next  morning  Watson  sent  that  dispatch  to  Marion 
which,  from  its  lugubrious  tenor,  has  acquired  a degree  of 
notoriety  much  greater  than  the  name  of  the  officer  from 
whom  it  emanated.  He  complained  to  Marion  of  his  modes 
of  fighting,  objected  to  the  ambuscades  of  the  partisan, 
and  particularly  complained  that  his  picquets  and  sentinels 
should  be  shot  down  when  they  had  no  suspicion  of  danger. 
He  concluded  by  urging  upon  Marion  to  come  out  and  fight 
him  like  a gentleman  and  Christian,  according  to  the  laws  of 
civilized  warfare.  While  the  tone  of  the  letter  was  thus 
lugubrious,  its  language  was  offensive.  He  applied  to  the 
partisans  the  epithets  “banditti  and  murderers.”  Marion  re- 
turned no  answer  to  this  precious  document,  but  renewed 
his  order  to  his  nightly  patrols,  to  shoot  the  sentinels  and 
cut  off  the  picquets  as  before.  He  thought  the  measure 
quite  as  legitimate  in  such  a war,  as  the  burning  the  house 
and  hanging  the  son  of  the  widow. 

But  though  Marion  returned  no  answer  by  the  flag, 


life  OF  MARION. 


219 


10  the  letter  of  Watson,  there  was  a dispatch  by  one  of  the 
brigade,  of  a somewhat  curious  character.  There  was  a 
sergeant  in  the  brigade  by  the  name  of  McDonald,  of 
whom  something  has  been  heard  before.  He  was  the  same 
bold  fellow  who  had  so  closely  pursued  Major  Gainey  into 
Georgetown,  leaving  his  bayonet  in  the  possession  and  person 
of  the  latter.  He  was  distinguished  by  his  great  coolness 
and  courage,  an  extraordinary  degree  of  strength,  and  a cor- 
responding share  of  agility.  He  was  as  notorious  among  the 
enemy  for  his  audacity,  as  he  was  among  his  comrades  for 
his  great  modesty  and  goodness  of  heart.  It  appears  that, 
among  some  of  Watson’s  captures,  while  pressing  hard 
upon  our  partisans,  had  been  the  entire  wardrobe  of  Mc- 
Donald. The  sergeant  felt  it  as  something  more  than  a 
loss  of  property  that  his  clothes  should  be  taken  by  the 
enemy.  It  was  a point  of  honor  that  he  should  recover 
them.  His  message  to  Watson  was  of  this  purport.  He 
concluded  with  solemnly  assuring  the  bearer  of  the  flag, 
that  if  the  clothes  were  not  returned  he  would  kill  eight  of 
his  men.  Watson  was  furious  at  a message  which  in- 
creased the  irritation  of  his  late  discomfiture.  Knowing 
nothing  himself  of-  McDonald,  he  was  disposed  to  treat 
the  message  with  contempt ; but  some  of  his  officers,  Avho 
knew  better  the  person  with  whom  they  had  to  deal,  beg- 
ged that  the  clothes  of  the  sergeant  might  be  returned  to 
him,  for  that  he  would  most  certainly  keep  his  word  if 
they  were  not.  Watson  complied  with  the  suggestion. 
When  the  clothes  appeared,  McDonald  said  to  the  bearer, 
“ Tell  Col.  Watson,  I will  now  kill  but  four  of  his  men.” 
Two  days  after  he  shot  Lieut.  Torriano  through  the  knee 
with  a rifle, at  a distance  of  three  hundred  yards. 

Marion,  the  next  day,  took  post  on  a ridge  below  the 
ford  of  the  river,  which  is  still  popularly  called  “ The 
General’s  Island.”  His  rifles  still  effectually  commanded  the 


U 0 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


passage  and  baffled  every  attempt  of  Watson  to  cross. 
Pushing  M‘Cottry  and  Conyers  ove;  the  river,  • they 
exercised  themselves  in  cutting  off  his  patroles  and 
picquets.  To  save  himself  from  these  annoyances,  Wat- 
son retreated  a little  higher  up  the  river  and  pitch- 
ed his  camp  at  Blakeley’s  plantation,  in  the  most  open 
field  that  he  could  find.  Here  he  remained  for  ten  days 
almost  environed  by  his  adroit  and  active  enemy.  Night 
and  day  was  he  kept  in  a condition  of  alarm  and  apprehen- 
sion. The  cavalry  beat  up  his  quarters  when  he  slept, 
while  the  riflemen  picked  off  his  men  the  moment  they 
exposed  themselves.  It  was  while  he  was  in  this  situa- 
tion that  the  brave  Capt.  Conyers  presented  himself  daily 
before  the  lines  of  the  enemy,  either  as  a single  cavalier,  or 
at  the  head  of  his  troop,  demanding  an  opponent.  The 
anecdote  has  been  already  narrated  in  another  chapter. 

The  temper  of  Watson  was  very  much  subdued  by  this 
sort  of  warfare.  His  next  letter  to  Marion  was  of  very 
different  tone  from  that  sent  but  a few  days  before.  He 
now  solicits  a pass  from  his  enemy  for  Lieut.  Torriano  and 
others  wounded,  whom  he  desired  to  send  to  Charleston. 
This  was  promptly  granted.  Meanwhile  he  employed  a 
negro  from  Chevin’s  plantation  to  carry  a letter  to  the 
commandant  at  Georgetown.  In  endeavoring  to  make  his 
way,  the  negro  was  killed  and  the  letter  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Marion.  It  contained  a woful  complaint  of  the  unfair 
mode  of  fighting  pursued  by  the  partisans,  and  implored  a 
reinforcement.*  In  fact  Watson  was  literally  besieged. 
His  supplies  were  cut  off,  his  progress  arrested,  and  so 
many  of  his  men  perished  in  the  continual  skirmishing,  that 
he  is  reported  by  tradition  to  have  sunk  them  in  Black  nver 
in  order  to  conceal  their  numbers.  He  was  finally  com- 
pelled to  decamp.  If  his  path  was  beset  with  dangers,  it 


Horry’s  MS 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


221 


was  death  to  remain  in  his  present  situation.  Maging  a 
forced  march  down  the  Georgetown  road,  he  paused  when 
ht  reached  Ox  swamp,  six  miles  below  the  lower  bridge 
His  flight  had  teen  harassed  by  light  parties  of  the  Ameri- 
cans ; but  here  he  found  them  prepared  for,  and  awaiting 
him.  The  road  through  which  he  was  to  pass,  was  skirt- 
ed by  a thick  boggy  sw'amp,  and  before  him  the  causeway 
was  covered  with  trees  which  had  been  felled  to  obstruct 
his  passage.  The  bridges  were  destroyed,  and  Marion  lay 
directly  in  his  path,  prepared  for  a final  encounter.  Wat- 
son shrank  from  the  prospect,  and  determined  upon  another 
route.  Wheeling  to  the  right  he  dashed  through  the 
open  pine  woods,  for  the  Santee  road,  about  fifteen  miles. 
When  overtaken  by  Marion  upon  this  road,  his  infantry 
were  hurrying  forward,  like  horses, at  a full  trot.  But  few 
natural  obstacles  attended  his  progress  on  this  path,  and 
the  extraordinary  rapidity  of  his  flight  had  put  him  con- 
siderably ahead  of  his  pursuers.  But  he  was  not  yet  to 
escape.  The  cavalry  of  Horry,  and  the  riflemen  of 
M‘Cottry,  galled  him  at  every  step  in  flank  and  rear.  When 
he  reached  Sampit  bridge  a last  skirmish  took  place,  which 
might  have  terminated  in  the  complete  defeat  of  the  ene- 
my, but  for  the  cowardice  of  a Lieut.  Scott,  of  Horry’s  de- 
tachment. Watson  was  attacked  fiercely  in  the  flank  and 
rear  by  the  whole  force  of  Marion.  His  horse  was  killed, 
and  his  own  life  endangered.  The  affair  was  equally  short 
and  sharp,  and  had  it  not  been  that  the  ambush  placed  by 
Horry  failed  to  discharge  its  duty,  Watson  would,  in  all 
probability,  never  have  reached  Georgetown,  or  only 
reached  it  on  parole.  He  gained  it  finally  in  safety,  thor- 
oughly harassed  and  discomfited  by  the  subtle  enemy  whom 
he  had  gone  forth,  with  a superior  force,  and  a confident 
hope,  to  destroy  or  capture. 

rut  the  sux  mss  of  our  partisan  against  Watson  did  not 


222 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


necessarily  dispose  of  his  enemies.  While  he  had  been  en- 
gaged in  the  events,  as  just  given,  Col.  Doyle  had  succeed- 
ed in  penetrating  to  his  haunts  on  Snow’s  Island.  That 
famous  retreat  had  been  entrusted  to  a small  body  of  men 
under  the  command  of  Col.  Ervin.  Ervin  was  defeated, 
and  Doyle  obtained  possession  of  all  Marion’s  stores.  Arms 
and  ammunition  were  emptied  into  Lynch’s  Creek,  and 
this  at  a period,  when  every  ounce  of  powder,  and  pound 
of  shot,  were  worth,  to  our  partisans,  their  weight  in  gold. 
It  was  while  moving  from  Sampit  towards  Snow’s  Island, 
that  Marion  was  apprised  of  this  mortifying  intelligence. 
It  was  a matter  to  be  deplored  certainly,  but  it  was  one  of 
those  events  that  could  not  have  been  prevented.  The 
force  of  Marion  was  too  small  to  suffer  him  to  play  the  ad- 
mirable game,  already  described,  with  Watson,  yet  leave  a 
sufficient  body  of  men  in  car  up  for  its  protection.  He  had 
only  to  console  himself  by  taking  his  revenge,  and  he  turned 
the  head  of  his  columns  in  pursuit  of  Doyle.  This  officer 
made  his  way  to  Witherspoon’s  Ferry,  on  Lynch’s  Creek, 
where  he  lay  in  a good  position  on  the  north  side  of  the 
Ferry.  Marion  approached  him  cautiously,  with  M‘Cottry’s 
mounted  riflemen  in  advance.  Arriving  at  the  creek  a 
detachment  of  the  British  was  found  on  the  opposite  side, 
engaged  in  scuttling  the  ferry  boat.  The  riflemen  drew 
nigh  unperceived,  and  poured  in  a well  directed  and  deadly 
fire,  which  produced  the  utmost  consternation.  The  fire 
was  returned  in  volleys,  but  the  limbs  and  branches  of  the 
trees  suffered  infinitely  more  than  the  riflemen  who  lay 
behind  them.  Marion  now  made  his  arrangements  for 
crossins:  the  stream.  But  this  was  not  to  be  done  in  the 
face  of  the  enemy,  with  the  creek  before  him  wide  and 
swollen.  Marion  moved  rapidly  up  the  creek,  which  he 
swam  at  the  first  favorable  point  some  five  miles  above 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


223 


Witherspoon’s.  This  brought  him  nearer  to  Doyle’s  posi- 
tion, but  the  latter  had  not  waited  for  him.  Whether  it 
was  that  he  had  little  taste  for  the  sort  of  annoyances  to 
which  Watson  had  been  subjected,  or  that  he  had  received 
instructions  from  Lord  Rawdon  to  join  him  at  Camden,  in 
all  haste,  it  is  certain  that  he  made  the  greatest  speed  in 
hurrying  in  that  direction. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  Marion  held  a consultation 
with  Horry,  in  which  he  is  represented  by  that  officer  as 
in  an  unusual  state  of  despondency.  His  enemies  were  ac- 
cumulating around  him  with  unwonted  rapidity,  and  in 
greater  force  than  ever.  Watson,  furious  at  his  late 
disasters,  and  mortified  with  the  result  of  his  confident  an- 
ticipations, had  sallied  forth  from  Georgetown  with  a rein- 
forcement. He  had  gone  towards  the  Pedee,  where  he 
strengthened  himself  with  the  large  body  of  Tories  which 
Gainey  had  commanded.  Horry  tells  us  of  a third  body 
of  men  at  the  same  time  in  the  field,  with  Doyle  and 
Watson,  and  all  addressing  themselves  to  the  same  object, 
his  utter  expulsion  from  the  country.  At  that  moment  the 
expulsion  of  our  Partizan  would  leave  the  conquest  of  the 
State  complete. 

In  these  emergencies,  with  these  foes  accumulating 
around  him,  the  mind  of  Marion  naturally  addressed  itself 
with  more  gravity  than  usual  to  the  task  of  his  extrication 
from  his  enemies.  His  countenance,  as  Horry  describes 
it,  was  troubled.  But,  with  his  usual  taciturnity,  he  said 
nothing  on  the  subject  of  his  anxieties.  Seeing  him  walk- 
ing alone,  and  in  deep  revery,  Horrj  approached  him,  and 
said — 

“ General,  our  men  are  few,  and,  if  what  I hear  be  true, 
you  never  wanted  them  more.” 

Marion  starGd,  and  replied — 


224 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


11  Go  immediately  to  the  field  officers,  and  know  from 
them,  if,  in  the  event  of  my  being  compelled  to  retire  to 
the  mountains,  they  will  follow  my  fortunes,  and  with  me 
carry  on  the  war,  until  the  enemy  is  forced  out  of  the 
country.  Go,  and  bring  me  their  answer  without  delay.5' 

It  was  a peculiarity  in  Marion’s  character,  that  he  should 
have  entrusted  such  a commission  to  a subordinate.  But 
it  accords  with  all  that  we  have  seen  of  the  reserve  and 
shyness  of  his  moods.  The  simple  remark  to  Horry  in- 
dicates his  admirable  firmness,  his  calculations,  even  of  pos- 
sible necessities  long  in  advance,  and  his  instinctive  mode 
of  encountering  them  as  he  best  might.  His  determination, 
on  his  own  account,  to  carry  on  the  war  against  the  enemy 
n the  mountains,  till  they  or  himself  were  expelled  from 
the  country,  denotes  the  unsubmitting  patriot.  The  reader 
must  not  forget  that,  at  this  moment,  there  was  no  force 
in  the  State  but  his  own,  arrayed  against  the  British. 
Sumter  was  still  hors  de  combat  from  his  wound.  The 
army  of  Greene,  having  with  it  Pickens,  and  other  native 
partisans,  together  with  a considerable  force  of  native 
militia,  was  in  North  Carolina,  watching  the  movements  of 
Cornwallis.  Lord  Raw  don,  with  a strong  British  garrison, 
held  Camden.  Charleston  and  Georgetown,  Ninety-Six  and 
Granby,  Forts  Watson  and  Motte,  were  all  held,  with 
numerous  other  conspicuous  points,  by  the  British ; and 
with  Watson,  whose  force  now  numbered  a thousand  men, 
Doyle  half  that  number,  and  several  active  and  large  bodies 
of  Tories  prepared  to  co-operate  with  these  against  our 
partisan,  the  danger  of  Marion’s  situation,  and  his  patri- 
otic resolve  of  character,  are  conspicuous  at  a glance. 

Horry  sought  the  officers,  and  promptly  returned  to  his 
commander.  To  a man  they  had  pledged  themselves  to 
follow  his  fortunes,  however  disastrous,  while  one  of  them 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


225 


survived,  and  until  their  country  was  freed  from  the  enemy. 
Marion’s  countenance  instantly  brightened — we  cannot  for- 
bear the  use  of  Horry’s  own  language,  though  it  may  pro- 
voke a smile — “ he  was  tip-toed” — (i.e.) — he  rose  upon  his 
toes — and  said  “ I am  satisfied — one  of  these  parties  shall 
soon  feel  us.  ’* 

* Horry’s  MS.,  pp.  59,  60 


10* 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


/y 


Marlon  renews  his  pursuit  of  Doyle. — Confronts  Watson. — Is 

joined  by  Col.  Lee. — Invests  and  takes  Fort  Watson. — Fort 

Motte  taken. — Anecdote  of  Horry  and  Marion. 

Marion  instantly  put  his  men  in  motion  in  pursuit  of 
Doyle.  In  crossing  the  swamp  of  Lynch’s  Creek,  during 
the  night,  several  of  the  soldiers  lost  their  arms,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  freshet.  The  swamp  was  inundated,  and 
it  required  all  their  dexterity  and  promptitude  to  save 
themselves.  Snatching  a hasty  breakfast,  the  pursuit  was 
continued  all  day,  and  resumed  the  next  morning  until  ten 
o’clock,  when  they  found  such  signs  of  the  superior  speed 
and  haste  of  the  enemy,  as  to  preclude  all  possibility  of 
overtaking  him.  They  had  been  necessarily  delayed  by 
the  passage  of  the  swamp,  and  had  not  made  sufficient 
allowance  for  the  speed  with  which  an  enemy  might  run 
when  there  was  occasion  for  it.  Here  they  found  that 
Doyle  had  destroyed  all  his  heavy  baggage,  and  had  sped 
in  such  confusion  towards  Camden,  that  his  encampment, 
and  the  road  which  he  traversed,  were  strewn  with 
canteens  and  knapsacks,  and  everything,  not  necessary  to 
defence,  which  might  retard  his  progress. 

Marion,  somewhat  surprised  at  a flight  for  which  ho 
could  not  then  account,  for  his  own  force  was  far  inferior 
to  that  of  Doyle,  yet  saw  that  the  fugitive  was  beyond 
present  pursuit.  He  wheeled  about,  accordingly,  and  set 
his  men  in  motion  for  another  meeting  with  Watson. 
That  commander,  now  strengthened,  and  just  doubling 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


227 


the  numbers  of  our  partisan,  with  fresh  supplies  of  provi- 
sions and  military  stores,  had  once  more  pushed  for  the 
Pedee.  He  took  the  nearest  route  across  Black  river,  at 
Wragg’s  Ferry,  and,  crossing  the  Pedee  at  Euhaney,  and 
the  Little  Pedee  at  Potato  Ferry,  he  halted  at  Catfish 
Creek,  one  mile  from  the  present  site  of  Marion  Court- 
house. Marion  crossed  the  Pedee,  and  encamped  at  the 
Warhees,  within  five  miles  of  the  enemy.  Here  he 
planted  himself,  in  vigilant  watch  of  the  force  which  he 
could  not  openly  encounter.  In  addition  to  the  want  of 
men,  he  labored  under  a still  greater  want  of  ammunition. 
When  asked  by  Capt.  Gavin  Witherspoon,  whether  he 
meant  to  fight  Watson — a measure  which  Witherspoon 
thought  particularly  advisable — before  he  was  joined  by 
any  more  bodies  of  Tories,  he  answered,  “ That  would  be 
best,  but  w'e  have  not  ammunition.” 

“ Why,  general,”  said  Witherspoon,  u my  powder-horn 
is  full.” 

Ah,  my  friend  !”  was  the  reply  of  Marion,  “ you  are 
an  extraordinary  soldier  ; but  for  the  others,  there  are  not 
two  rounds  to  a man.” 

Thus  stood  the  two  parties ; and  thus  it  but  too  fre- 
quently stood  with  our  partisan — wanting  the  most  simple 
resources  by  which  to  make  his  own  genius  and  the  valor 
of  his  men  apparent.  That  the  former  was  alive  and 
equal  to  emergencies,  even  in  such  a condition  of  necessity, 
may  be  inferred  from  the  fact,  that  he  should  dare  take 
such  a position,  so  immediately  contiguous  to  an  enemy 
double  his  own  force,  and  abounding  in  all  the  requisite 
materials  of  war.  The  inactivity  of  Watson  is  only  to  be 
accounted  for  by  his  total  ignorance  of  the  resourceless 
state  of  Marion’s  rifles. 

While  Marion  and  Watson  were  thus  relatively  placed, 
Ihe  former  was  apprised  of  the  return  of  Greene  to  South 


228 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


Carolina.  This  intelligence  accounted  for  the  hasty  retreat 
of  Doyle.  He  was  summoned  by  Lord  Rawdon  to  Cam- 
den, to  strengthen  that  position  against  the  American  force, 
which  was  advancing  in  that  direction.  The  reappear- 
ance of  Greene  was  a source  of  heartfelt  joy  to  those  who, 
but  a little  while  before,  had  anticipated  the  necessity  of 
flying  before  the  foe,  and  taking  shelter  in  the  mountains. 
It  was  because  of  the  absence  of  the  American  army  that 
Rawdon  was  enabled,  as  we  have  seen,  to  concentrate  his 
chief  force  upon  Marion.  The  presence  of  Greene,  which 
had  caused  the  recall  of  Doyle,  must,  as  Marion  well  knew, 
effect  that  of  Watson  also.  He  was  preparing  himself 
accordingly,  when  further  advices  brought  him  news  of  the 
approach  of  Colonel  Lee,  with  the  Continental  Legion,  to 
his  own  assistance.  He  dispatched  a guide  to  Lee,  and 
by  means  of  boats,  which  he  always  kept  secreted,  the 
Legion  was  transported  over  the  Pedee,  and  a junction  with 
Marion’s  force  was  effected  on  the  fourteenth  of  April. 

The  tidings  which  had  brought  such  gratification  to  the 
camp  of  Marion,  had  as  inspiring,  though  not  as  grateful  an 
effect  in  that  of  Watson.  He  lost  no  time  in  breaking  up  his 
encampment.  The  safety  of  Rawdon  and  Camden  was  para- 
mount, and,  wheeling  his  two  field-pieces  into  Catfish  Creek, 
and  burning  his  baggage,  as  Doyle  had  done,  he  sped,  with 
similar  precipitation,  in  the  same  direction.  The  route  taken 
in  his  flight  declared  his  apprehensions  of  Marion.  He  trem- 
bled at  the  recollection  of  the  recent  race  between  them — 
the  harassings  and  skirmishings  night  and  day — the  sleep- 
less struggles,  and  unintermitting  alarms.  Recrossing  the 
Little  Pedee,  and  avoiding  Euhaney,  he  passed  the  Wac- 
camaw  at  Greene’s  Ferry,  and,  retreating  through  the 
Neck,  between  that  river  and  the  sea,  crossed  Winyaw 
Bay,  three  miles  in  width,  and,  in  this  manner,  arrived  in 
Georgetown.  A slight  glance  at  any  map  of  the  country, 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


229 


keeping  in  mind  that  Watson’s  object  was  really  Camden, 
will  show  the  reader  the  extent  of  his  fears  of  that  wily 
and  indefatigable  enemy  from  whom  he  had  previously 
escaped  with  so  much  difficulty. 

Marion  was  exceedingly  anxious  to  pursue  Watson,  but 
Lee,  though  subordinate,  succeeded  in  preventing  this  de- 
sire. Instructions  which  he  brought  from  Greene,  and 
which  he  earnestly  dwelt  upon,  required  their  co-opera- 
tion against  the  British  posts  below  Camden.  Lee  urged, 
also,  that  such  a pursuit  would  take  them  too  far  from 
Greene,  with  the  movements  of  whose  army  it  was  im- 
portant that  Marion’s  force  should  act  as  intimately  as  pos- 
sible. Marion  yielded  the  point  with  great  reluctance,  and 
was  heard  repeatedly  after  to  regret  that  his  orders  did  not 
permit  him  to  follow  the  dictates  of  his  own  judgment 
Had  he  done  so,  with  his  force  strengthened  by  the  Conti- 
nental bayonets,  and  new  supplies  of  powder  for  his  rifles, 
Watson’s  flight  to  Georgetown,  which  he  could  scarcely 
have  reached,  would  have  been  far  more  uncomfortable 
than  he  found  it  on  the  previous  occasion. 

Lee  led  the  way  with  his  legion  towards  the  Santee, 
while  Marion,  placing  Witherspoon  with  a small  party  on 
the  trail  of  Watson,  pursued  bis  line  of  march  through 
Williamsburg.  Having  once  resolved,  Marion’s  movements 
were  always  rapid  and  energetic.  On  the  fifteenth  of  April, 
only  a day  after  the  junction  with  Lee,  he  was  before  Fort 
Watson. 

This  was  a stockade  fort,  raised  on  one  of  those  remark- 
able elevations  of  an  unknown  antiquity  which  are  usually 
recognized  as  Indian  mounds.  It  stands  near  Scott’s  Lake 
on  the  Santee  river,  a few  miles  below  the  junction  of  the 
Congaree  and  Wateree.  The  mound  is  forty  feet  in  height, 
and  remote  from  any  other  elevation  by  which  it  might  be 
commanded  The  garrison  at  this  post  consisted  of  eighty 


230 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


regular  troops,  and  forty  loyalists.  It  was  commanded  by 
Lieut.  McKay,  a brave  officer,  of  the  regular  service. 
To  the  summons  of  Marion  he  returned  a manly  defiance, 
and  the  place  was  regularly  invested. 

Besieged  and  besiegers  were  alike  without  artillery ; 
with  a single  piece,  the  former  might  well  have  defied  any 
force  which  Marion  could  bring  against  him.  The  place 
would  have  been  impregnable  to  the  Americans.  As  it 
was,  its  steep  sides  and  strong  palisades  forbade  any  at- 
tempt to  storm.  To  cut  off  the  garrison  from  Scott’s 
Lake,  where  it  procured  water,  was  the  first  step  taken  by 
the  besiegers.  But  the  besieged,  by  sinking  a well  within 
the  stockade,  below  the  level  of  the  contiguous  water, 
counteracted  the  attempt.  For  a moment,  the  assailants 
were  at  fault,  and,  without  artillery,  the  prospect  was  suf- 
ficiently discouraging.  But  while  doubting  and  hesitating, 
Col.  Mabam,  of  the  brigade,  suggested  a mode  of  over- 
awing the  garrison  which  was  immediately  adopted.  At 
a short  distance  from  the  fort  there  grew  a small  wood,  a 
number  of  the  trees  of  which  were  hewn  down,  and  trans- 
ported upotfi  the  shoulders  of  the  men  within  a proper  dis- 
tance of  the  mound.  Here,  during  the  night,  all  hands 
were  actively  employed  in  piling  the  wood  thus  brought,  in 
massive  and  alternate  layers,  crosswise,  until  the  work  had 
reached  a sufficient  elevation.  At  dawn,  the  garrison  were 
confounded  to  find  themselves,  at  wakening,  under  a shower 
of  rifle  bullets.  Thus  overlooked,  the  fort  was  no  longer 
tenable;  and  a party  of  volunteers  from  the  militia,  headed 
oy  Ensign  Baker,  and  another  of  Continentals,  from  the 
legion,  led  by  Mr.  Lee,  a volunteer,  ascended  the  mound 
with  great  intrepidity,  and  gained  the  abbatis,  which  they 
proceeded  to  destroy.  This  movement  brought  the  garri- 
son to  terms,  and  a capitulation  immediately  followed 
But  the  Isaguer  had  consumed  eight  days,  the  progress  of 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


231 


which  had  been  watched  with  equal  anxiety  by  both  parties. 
The  Americans  apprehended,  and  the  garrison  anticipated, 
the  approach  of  Watson  with  an  overwhelming  force  for  the 
relief  of  the  besieged.  But  Watson  did  not  appear.  He 
no  longer  had  an  overwhelming  force.  His  flight  to  George- 
town was  marked  by  loss  and  desertion.  It  appears  that 
his  panic,  or  his  sense  of  duty,  led  him  rather  to  avoid 
Marion  and  to  reach  Camden  without  interruption.  He 
very  prudently,  therefore,  after  crossing  the  Santee,  on  the 
route  from  Georgetown,  moved  down  by  Monk’s  Corner, 
added  to  his  force  the  garrison  of  that  place,  and  then 
cautiously  advanced  to  the  Santee.  He  resolved  rather  to 
leave  Fort  Watson  to  its  fate,  than  risk  a force  which  might 
be  necessary  to  the  exigencies  of  Rawdon.  Watson  was 
considered  by  the  British  one  of  their  best  partisans,  yet 
never  had  poor  warrior  been  so  worried  and  harassed,  as, 
with  a superior  force,  he  had  been  by  Marion.  Yet,  in  his 
second  expedition  in  pursuit  of  the  latter,  had  he  been  able 
to  co-operate  with  Doyle,  with  the  Tories  of  Harrison  and 
Gainey,  all  preparing  for  the  same  object,  the  escape  of  our 
partisan  would  have  been  miraculous.  At  no  time,  during 
their  pursuit  of  him,  was  his  force  equal  to  the  smallest  one 
of  theirs.  He  must  have  been  expelled  the  country,  as  he 
himself  seemed  to  apprehend,  or  he  must  have  fallen  in  the 
conflict. 

We  have  so  little  at  the  hands  of  Marion,  in  the  shape 
of  correspondence,  that  we  are  tempted  to  give  his  official 
letter  to  General  Greene,  apprising  him  of  the  fall  of  Fort 
Watson.  It  is  dated — 

Fort  Watson  (Scott’s  Lake),  April  23,  1781. 

Sir— 

Lieut. -Col.  Lee  made  a junction  with  me  at  Santee 
Jie  14th  inst.,  after  a rapid  march  from  Ramsay’s  mill,  on 


232 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


Deep  River,  which  he  performed  in  eight  days.  The  15th 
we  marched  to  this  place  and  invested  it.  Our  hope  was 
to  cut  oft’  their  water.  Some  riflemen  and  Continentals 
immediately  took  post  between  the  fort  and  the  lake.  The 
fort  is  situated  on  a small  hill,  forty  feet  high,  stockaded, 
and  with  three  rows  of  abbatis  round  it.  No  trees 
near  enough  to  cover  our  men  from  their  fire.  The  third 
day  after  we  had  invested  it,  we  found  the  enemy  had  sunk 
a well  near  the  stockade  which  we  could  not  prevent  them 
from  [doing]  ; as  we  had  no  entrenching  tools  to  make  our 
approach,  we  immediately  determined  to  erect  a work  equal 
in  height  to  the  fort.  This  arduous  work  was  completed 
this  morning  by  Major  Maham,  who  undertook  it  We 
then  made  a lodgment  on  the  side  of  the  mound,  near  the 
stockade.  This  was  performed  with  great  spirit  and  ad- 
dress by  Ensign  Johnson,  and  Mr.  Lee,  a volunteer  in  Col. 
Lee’s  legion,  who  with  difficulty  ascended  the  hill  and 
pulled  away  the  abbatis,  which  induced  the  commandant  to 
hoist  a flag.  Col.  Lee  and  myself  agreed  to  the  enclosed 
capitulation,  which  I hope  may  be  approved  by  you.  Our 
loss  on  this  occasion  is  two  killed,  and  three  Continentals 
and  three  militia  wounded.  I am  particularly  indebted  to 
Col.  Lee  for  his  advice  and  indefatigable  diligence  in  every 
part  of  these  tedious  operations,  against  as  strong  a little 
post  as  could  well  be  made,  and  on  the  most  advantageous 
spot  that  could  be  wished  for.  The  officers  and  men  of 
the  legion  and  militia  performed  everything  that  could  be 
expected  ; and  Major  Maham  of  my  brigade,  had,  in  a par- 
ticular manner,  a great  share  of  this  success  by  his  unwea- 
ried diligence  in  erecting  the  tower  which  principally  occa- 
sioned the  reduction  of  the  fort.  In  short,  sir,  I have  had 
the  greatest  assistance  from  every  one  under  my  command. 
Enclosed  is  a list  of  the  prisoners  and  stores  taken,  and  I 
shall,  m 'thout  loss  of  time,  proceed  to  demolish  the  fort 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


233 


after  which  I shall  march  to  the  high  hills  of  Santee, 
encamp  at  Capt.  Richardson’s,  and  await  your  orders. 

(Signed)  Francis  Marion 

In  taking  post  at  the  Santee  Hills,  the  object  of  Marion 
was  to  take  such  a position  as  would  enable  him  to  watch 
all  the  several  roads  by  which  Watson  could  make  his  way 
to  Camden.  It  was  important,  if  possible,  to  prevent  his 
junction  with  Lord  Rawdon,  thus  increasing  the  ability  of 
that  commander  to  cope  with  Greene’s  army,  which  now 
lay  before  that  place.  But  Marion  was  notable  to  encoun- 
ter Watson  without  assistance.  Lee,  with  his  legion,  had 
been  withdrawn  by  Greene  soon  after  the  capture  of  F ort 
Watson,  and  our  partisan’s  force  in  camp,  from  concurring 
circumstances,  was  now  reduced  to  about  eighty  men. 
Eighty  of  his  brigade  were  detached  under  Col.  Irvine  to 
Rafting  Creek,  in  order  to  cut  off  supplies  from  Camden 
Another  party  was  engaged  in  watching  a rising  of  the 
Tories  on  the  Pedee,  who,  in  the  absence  of  Marion  him- 
self, had  manifested  a disposition  to  resume  the  offensive  ; 
Col.  Harden,  with  another  detachment,  was  on  the  Salke- 
hatchie,  having  first  succeeded  in  the  capture  of  Fort  Bal- 
four at  Pocotaligo,  in  which  he  made  nearly  a hundred  pris- 
oners. Other  small  detachments  had  thinned  the  little 
army  of  our  partisan  to  such  a degree  that  it  was  of  small 
efficiency  where  it  was  ; and,  just  at  this  juncture,  nume- 
rous desertions  took  place  from  two  concurring  circumstan- 
ces. The  approach  of  Marion  to  the  hills  had  brought  on 
the  battle  of  Camden.  Unwilling  that  Greene’s  force  should 
be  increased  by  the  militia  of  the  former,  Rawdon  had 
resolved  not  to  wait  for  Watson,  but  to  march  out  and  give 
battle  before  the  coming  of  either.  He  did  so.  The  affair 
was  not  decisive,  but  Greene  was  compelled  to  yield  the 
field  to  his  enemv  He  lost  nothing,  whether  of  honor  or 


234 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


position,  by  this  result.  But,  as  the  news  spread,  the  de- 
feat was  exaggerated.  It  was  supposed  to  be  another  affair 
such  as  that  of  Gates , and  Marion’s  small  body  of  men  was 
still  farther  lessened  by  desertion.  There  was  still  another 
reason  for  its  present  feebleness.  The  time  of  the  year 
was  the  very  he  ight  of  the  planting  season,  and  the  farmer- 
soldiers,  in  numbers,  left  the  camp  in  order  to  hurry  to  their 
homes  and  set  their  crops  This,  though  not  allowed  by 
the  regular  disciplinarian,  was,  in  the  mind  of  the  militia- 
man, a duty  quite  as  imperative  as  any  that  he  owed  to  his 
family.  Indeed,  it  was  inseparable  from  his  necessities  that, 
where  the  Government  did  not  give  him  bread,  he  must 
make  it  for  himself.  His  family  could  not  starve,  and  if  he 
could  fight  without  pay,  it  was  not  possible  that  he  should 
do  so  without  food.  In  the  sort  of  warfare  which  Marion 
had  hitherto  carried  on,  he  had  been  willing  to  recognize 
these  necessities  on  the  part  of  his  followers.  Co-operating 
with  an  army  differently  constituted,  it  was  scarcely  possible 
to  do  so,  with  any  hope  of  their  permanent  usefulness.  Just 
at  this  juncture,  in  particular,  he  felt  the  peculiarly  mortify- 
ing character  of  his  situation. 

To  enable  Marion  to  contend  with  Watson,  Greene  dis- 
patched Major  Eaton,  with  a body  of  Continentals,  to  his 
assistance,  with  instructions  to  throw  himself  across  the  path 
of  Watson.  But  Eaton,  by  an  unhappy  misunderstanding 
of  his  duty,  failed  to  reach  him  in  season  for  this  object. 
When  he  did  join  him,  which  was  on  the  evening  of  the 
2d  of  May,  it  was  too  late.  Marion,  writing  to  Greene, 
says,  “ Major  Eaton’s  not  coming  up  sooner  has  made  me 
lose  a great  deal  of  precious  time.  I shall  cross  the  Santee 
at  Wright’s  Bluff  to-morrow.”  He  did  so,  but  Watson  had 
already  passed,  and  succeeded  in  eluding  Greene  also,  and 
in  reaching  Camden  in  safety. 

We  have  spoken  of  Col.  Harden’s  proceedings  against 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


235 


Fort  Balfour,  and  the  capture  of  that  post.  This  officer  was 
a very  brave  and  active  gentleman,  rapid  in  his  movements ; 
and  resolute  in  his  objects.  As  soon  as  Marion  had  receiv- 
ed intelligence  of  Greene’s  approach  to  South  Carolina,  he 
had  dispatched  Harden  with  seventy  select  men,  well 
mounted,  to  penetrate  through  the  country,  and  crossing 
the  enemy’s  lines  of  communication,  to  stir  up  the  people 
in  all  that  region  which  lies  southwest  of  Charleston.  So 
rapid  and  unexpected  were  his  movements,  that  he  took 
the  enemy  everywhere  by  surprise,  and  rendered  himself, 
for  the  time,  the  very  terror  of  the  loyalists  upon  the  route. 
His  force  increased  with  its  progress.  The  inhabitants 
yearned  for  an  escape  from  British  authority,  and  joined  his 
troop.  His  seventy  men  soon  became  two  hundred,  and 
while  he  baffled  the  pursuit  of  the  superior,  he  visited  with 
sudden  and  severe  chastisement  the  disaffected,  along  and 
on  both  sides  of  the  Savannah  river.  Ascending  this,  he 
soon  communicated  with  Pickens,  then  operating  against 
Augusta  and  Ninety-Six.  Nothing  now  was  wanting  but 
the  fall  of  the  enemy’s  chain  of  posts,  to  complete  the  re- 
covery of  the  whole  country  within  thirty  miles  of  the  sea. 
In  contributing  to  this  desirable  object  Marion,  now  strength- 
ened by  the  Continentals  of  Lee  and  Eaton,  invested  Fort 
Motte  on  the  river  Congaree. 

This  post  was  the  principal  depot  of  tti"  convoys  from 
Charleston  to  Camden,  and  sometimes  of  those  destined 
for  Forts  Granby  and  Ninety-Six.  A large  new  mansion- 
house  belonging  to  Mrs.  Motte,  situated  on  a high  and  com- 
manding hill,  had  been  chosen  for  this  establishment.  It 
was  surrounded  with  a deep  trench,  along  the  inner  margin 
of  which  a strong  and  lofty  parapet  was  raised.  To  this 
post  had  been  assigned  a sufficient  garrison  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  men.  This  force  was  increased  by  a small  detach- 
ment of  dragoons  from  Charleston,  which  had  been  thrown 


236 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


into  it  a few  hours  before  the  appearance  of  the  Americans. 
The  garrison  was  commanded  by  Capt.  McPherson,  a firm 
and  gallant  officer. 

Opposite  to  Fort  Motte,  to  the  north, stood  another  hill, 
where  Mrs.  Motte,  who  had  been  expelled  from  her  dwell- 
ing, resided  in  an  old  farm-house.  On  this,  Lee  took  posi- 
tion with  his  corps : Marion’s  men  occupied  the  eastern 
declivity  of  the  same  ridge  on  which  stood  the  fort. 

The  place  was  very  soon  invested.  The  six  poundei 
with  which  Greene  had  furnished  Marion,  was  mounted  on 
a battery  raised  in  the  quarter  which  he  occupied,  for  the 
purpose  of  raking  the  northern  face  of  the  enemy’s  parapet. 
McPherson  was  in  the  possession  of  a wall-piece,  but  he 
had  not  been  able  to  adapt  it  for  use  before  the  investment 
took  place.  It  does  not  seem  to  have  been  even  used 
during  the  siege.  His  chief  hopes  lay  in  being  relieved  by 
a detachment  from  Camden,  not  doubting  its  arrival  before 
his  assailant  could  push  his  preparations  to  maturity.  The 
works  of  the  latter  advanced  rapidly,  and  the  place  was 
summoned  on  the  20th  of  May.  The  reply  declared  the 
determination  of  the  besieged  to  try  the  strength  and  patience 
of  the  besiegers.  -These  had  now  every  motive  for  per- 
severance. They  were  advised  of  the  approach  of  Raw- 
don,  with  all  his  orce,  to  the  relief  of  the  fort.  That 
stern  command  -r,  finding  Camden  was  no  longer  tenable 
against  the  increasing  forces  of  the  Americans,  and  unable 
to  maintain  his  several  posts  with  his  diminished  strength, 
was  aiming  to  contract  his  scattered  bodies  into  narrower 
limits.  Having  made  a second,  but  unsatisfactory,  demon- 
stration upon  Greene,  he  destroyed  his  unnecessary  bag- 
gage, and,  leaving  Camden  in  flames,  he  once  more  aban- 
doned  it  to  the  Americans.  Greene  advised  Marion  of  his 
retreat,  and  urged  him  to  expedition.  On  the  next  night 
he  reached  the  country  opposite  Fort  Motte,  and  his 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


237 


numerous  fires  on  the  highest  grounds  on  his  route,  en- 
couraged the  garrison  with  hopes  of  success,  which  were 
not  to  be  realized. 

What  was  to  be  done,  was  to  be  done  quickly,  on  the 
part  of  the  besiegers.  The  process  of  battering  by  cannon 
would  be  too  slow.  Some  shorter  mode  was  to  be  adopted, 
to  anticipate  the  approach  of  Raw  don.  The  ready 
thought  of  our  partisan  suggested  this  process.  It  was 
known  that  the  large  mansion  of  Mrs.  Motte  occupied  the 
greater  part  of  the  area  of  the  fort ; but  a few  yards  of 
ground  within  the  works  remained  uncovered  by  it.  To 
burn  the  house  by  fire  would  compel  the  surrender  of  the 
garrison. 

The  necessity  was  very  reluctantly  communicated  to  the 
widow  by  whom  the  property  was  owned.  But  she  was 
one  of  those  glorious  dames  of  the  Revolution,  to  whom 
the  nation  is  so  largely  indebted  for  the  glory  of  that  event. 
She  had  received  the  America^  officers  with  a hospitality 
which  made  them  almost  shrink  from  suggesting  their  pur- 
poses ; but  as  soon  as  they  were  made  known,  she  put  them 
perfectly  at  ease  upon  the  subject.  With  something  more 
than  cheerfulness — with  pride — that  any  sacrifice  on  her 
part  should  contribute  to  the  success  of  her  countrymen, 
in  so  dear  an  object,  she  herself  produced  a bow,  with  all 
the  necessary  apparatus,  which  had  been  brought  from 
India,  and  which  she  had  preserved.  By  the  arrows  from 
this  bow  the  fire  was  to  be  communicated  to  her  dwelling. 

Everything  being  in  readiness,  the  lines  were  manned 
and  an  additional  force  stationed  at  the  batteries,  lest  the 
enemy,  in  the  moment  of  desperation,  might  prefer  risking 
an  assault,  rather  than  endure  the  mortification  of  a surren- 
der. A flag  was  again  sent  to  McPherson,  but  the  sight  of 
Rawdon’s  fires  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  encouraged 
him  with  the  belief  that  he  might  still  resist  successfully. 


238 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


The  bow  was  put  into  the  hands  of  Nathan  Savage,  a 
private  in  Marion’s  brigade.  It  was  noon  when  the  attempt 
was  made.  The  scorching  rays  of  the  noonday  sun  had 
prepared  the  roof  for  the  conflagration.  Balls  of  blazing 
rosin  and  brimstone  were  attached  to  the  arrows,  and  three 
several  shafts  were  sent  by  the  vigorous  arm  of  the  militia- 
man against  the  roof.  They  took  effect,  in  three  different 
quarters,  and  the  shingles  were  soon  in  a blaze.  McPher- 
son immediately  ordered  a party  to  the  roof,  but  this  had 
been  prepared  for,  and  the  fire  of  the  six-pounder  soon 
drove  the  soldiers  down.  The  flames  began  to  rage,  the 
besiegers  were  on  the  alert,  guarding  every  passage,  and 
no  longer  hopeful  of  Rawdon,  McPherson  hung  out  the 
white  flag  imploring  mercy.  The  gentle  nature  of  Marion 
readily  yielded  to  his  prayer,  though,  as  Lee  tells  us,  “policy 
commanded  death.” 

In  this  siege  Marion  lost  two  brave  fellows,  one  of  whom 
has  been  more  than  once  conspicuous  in  this  narrative — 
the  daring  Sergeant  McDonald,  and  Lieutenant  Cruger. 
McDonald  had  reached  a lieutenancy  before  he  fell.  The 
prisoners  were  paroled,  but  their  officers  before  leaving 
partook  of  a sumptuous  dinner  given  by  Mrs.  Motte  to 
the  victors.  This  noble  lady, whose  grace  of  demeanor  is 
represented  as  quite  equal  to  her  patriotism,  presided  at  her 
table,  in  such  a manner  as  to  render  all  parties  at  home. 
Col.  P.  Horry  tells  us  of  some  of  the  incidents  which  took 
place  at  the  dinner.  A captain  of  the  British  army,  taken 
among  the  prisoners,  on  finding  himself  near  Horry,  said 
to  him. 

“ You  are  Col.  Horry,  I presume,  sir.”  Horry  answered 
in  the  affirmative.  “ Well,”  said  the  other,  “ . was  with 
Col.  Watson  when  he  on  Sampit  fought  your  General 
Marion.  I think  I saw  you  there  with  a party  of  horse.  I 
think  you  were  also  at  Nelson’s  Ferry,  when  Marion  surpris- 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


239 


ed  our  party  at  the  house  ? But,”  added  the  officer,  “ I 
was  hid  in  high  grass  and  escaped.  Were  you  not  there 
also?”  Horry  answered,  “ No  ! It  was  my  brother  Hugh.” 
“ Well,”  said  the  captain, “ you  were  fortunate  in  your  escape 
[at  Sanipit]  for  Watson  and  Small  had  1200  men.”  “If 
so,”  said  Horry,  “ I certainly  was  fortunate,  for  I did  not 
suppose  they  had  more  than  half  that  number.”  The 
captain  then  added — “ I consider  myself  equally  fortunate 
in  escaping  at  Nelson’s  old  field.”  “ Truly,  you  were,” 
answered  Horry  drily ; “ for  Marion  had  but  30  militia  on 
that  occasion.”  “ At  this,”  says  our  worthy  Colonel, 
“ the  captain’s  countenance  fell,  and  he  retired,  and  avoided 
me  the  rest  of  the  day.  General  Greene,  the  next  day 
[Greene  had  reached  Marion’s  camp  that  night)  said  to  me, 
£ Col.  Horry,  how  came  you  to  affront  Capt.  Ferguson  ?’  j 
answered,  he  affronted  himself  by  telling  his  own  story.  It 
militated  so  greatly  against  himself  as  to  compel  the  officers 
wno  were  near  to  laugh.  The  captain  and  I,  sir,  agreed 
that  we  were  both  equally  fortunate  in  war.  Greene 
replied,  ‘ Capt.  Ferguson’s  memory  was  only  too  good.’ 

While  at  the  hospitable  table  of  Mrs.  Moultrie,  it  was 
whispered  in  Marion’s  ears,  that  Col.  Lee’s  men  were  even 
then  engaged  in  hanging  certain  of  the  Tory  prisoners. 
Marion  instantly  hurried  from  the  table,  seized  his  sword, 
and  running  with  all  haste,  reached  the  place  of  execution 
in  time  to  rescue  one  poor  wretch  from  the  gallows.  Two 
were  already  beyond  rescue  or  recovery.  With  drawn 
sword  and  a degree  of  indignation  in  his  countenance  that 
spoke  more  than  words,  Marion  threatened  to  kill  the  first 
man  that  made  any  further  attempt  in  such  diabolical 
proceedings. 


Horry’s  MS.  Narrative,  pp.  74-5.  f Ibid,  5 75. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Correspondence  of  Marion  and  Greene. — Anecdote  of  Col.  Snipes. 

—Marion  takes  Georgetown. — Attemptof  Sumter  and  Marion 

on  Col.  Coates. — Battle  of  Guiuby  Bridge. 

It  was  while  Marion  was  most  actively  engaged  in  the 
investment  of  Fort  Motte,  that  a correspondence  took  place 
between  himself  and  General  Greene,  which  had  nearly 
resulted  in  the  loss  of  his  invaluable  services  to  the  coun 
try.  A pure  and  noble  spirit,  Marion  was  particularly 
sensitive  to  reproach,  and  felt  deeply  its  injustice.  From 
the  moment  that  Greene  took  command  of  the  southern 
army,  he  had  yielded  the  most  profound  deference  to  his 
wishes,  had  seconded  his  slightest  suggestions,  timed  his 
own  movements  with  a studied  regard  to  those  contem- 
plated by  the  commander,  and,  whenever  the  service 
would  allow,  had  devoted  his  little  band  to  such  duties  as 
would  lead  to  the  promotion  of  all  those  larger  plans  which 
were  contemplated  for  the  execution  of  the  grand  army. 
His  scouts  had  served  for  pioneers,  his  cavalry  procured 
provisions  for  the  camp,  and  it  was  to  Marion  alone  that 
Greene  looked  for  all  his  intelligence.  But  there  was  one 
favorite  object  which  Greene  had  in  view,  to  which  our 
partisan  could  contribute  little.  The  want  of  a cavalry 
force  had  been  particularly  felt  by  the  former,  and  he  had 
been  sedulous  in  the  endeavor  to  supply  this  want,  from 
the  very  first  of  his  southern  campaigns.  He  had  been 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


241 


pressingly  calling  upon  Sumter,  Marion,  and  every  officer, 
who  might  be  thought  able  to  procure  him  a supply  of 
horses  ; and  active  agents  of  his  own  had  been  scouring 
every  quarter  of  the  country  in  search  of  this  indispensable 
agent  of  all  great  military  operations.  His  quest  had  been 
comparatively  vain.  The  British  had  been  before  him 
throughout  the  country.  The  dragoons  of  T arleton  had  swept 
the  stables  ; and,  where  this  was  not  the  case,  the  horses 
were  held  by  militia  men,  to  whom  they  were  quite  as  indis- 
pensable as  to  the  grand  army.  Marion’s  troopers  could 
only  be  of  service  while  in  possession  of  their  horses — 
Bey  had  large  and  extensive  tracts  of  country  to  traverse — 
could  procure  no  intelligence  without — and,  any  attempt  to 
dismount  a soldier  from  his  favorite  steed,  would  be  to 
produce  a degree  of  discontent  in  his  mind  which  would 
most  certainly  deprive  the  country  of  his  services.  To 
expect  that  the  partisan  militia  under  Marion  and  Sumter, 
who  had  been  constantly  on  horseback,  in  the  face  of  the 
enemy,  should  deliver  their  horses  up  to  others  who  pos- 
sessed no  higher  claim  upon  the  country  than  themselves, 
was  to  expect  more  largely  than  was  altogether  reasona- 
ble, from  the  liberality  or  the  patriotism  of  any  . set  of  men. 
A few,  such  as  could  be  spared,  had  been  supplied  by 
Marion.  He  never,  for  an  instant,  contemplated  the  dis- 
mounting of  his  troopers — those  hardy  fellows  who  had 
been  constant  in  all  vicissitudes — who  had  murmured  at 
no  tasks — shrunk  from  no  adventures — and  spared  neither 
themselves  nor  their  property,  when  the  necessities  of  the 
country  required,  at  periods  when  there  was  no  grand 
army  to  divide  with  themselves  the  honors  and  the  dan- 
gers of  the  war.  Nay,  to  dismount  them  was,  in  fact,  to 
disarm  himself.  It  appears,  however,  that  this  was  expect- 
ed of  him  An  unfortunate  letter  of  Col.  Lee,  dated  the  23d 
May,  and  addressed  to  Greene,  contained  this  paragraph 

11 


242 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


‘ General  Marion,”  says  the  letter,  “ can  supp.y  you, 
if  he  will,  with  one  hundred  and  fifty  good  dragoon  horses, 
most  of  them  impressed  horses.  He  might,  in  my  opinion, 
spare  sixty,  which  would  be  a happy  supply.” 

The  effect  of  this  communication  upon  Greene  was 
immediate  and  painful.  Believing  that  he  had  been  ill- 
used,  and  vexed  that  Marion,  knowing  his  necessities,  and 
with  the  power  to  relieve  them,  should  yet  have  forborne 
to  do  so,  though  urgently  exhorted,  he  frankly  declared 
his  feelings  in  the  very  next  letter  to  our  partisan.  Marion 
did  not  dissemble  his  indignation  in  his  reply.  He  repels 
the  charge  that  he  had  ever  withheld  supplies  which  he 
might  have  furnished,  and  concludes  his  letter  by  request- 
ing permission  to  resign — firmly,  but  respectfully,  intimat- 
ing his  resolution  to  retire  from  service  as  soon  as  Fort 
Motte  should  be  reduced.  Greene,-  in  an  instant,  from 
this  reply,  perceived  the  mischief  that  he  had  done.  He 
wrote  instantly  to  Marion,  and  succeeded,  though  with 
difficulty,  in  overcoming  his  resolution.  He  says  : “ My 
reason  for  writing  so  pressingly  for  the  dragoon  horses, 
was  from  the  distress  we  were  in.  It  is  not  my  wish  to 
take  the  horses  from  the  militia,  if  it  will  injure  the  public 
service.  The  effects  and  consequences  you  can  better 
judge  of  than  I can.  You  have  rendered  important  ser- 
vices to  the  public  with  the  militia  under  ^our  command, 
and  have  done  great  honor  to  yourself,  and  I would  not 
wish  to  render  your  situation  less  agreeable  with  them, 
unless  it  is  to  answer  some  very  great  purpose  ; and  this, 
1 persuade  myself,  you  would  agree  to,  from  a desire  to 
promote  the  common  good.”  . 

From  the  same  letter,  we  make  another  extract : “ 1 
shall  always  be  happy  to  see  you  at  head-quarters,  but 
cannot  think  you  seriously  mean  to  solicit  leave  to  go 
to  Philadelphia.  It  is  true,  your  task  has  been  disagreea- 


LIFE  OF  MARION.  2vN 

ole,  but  not  more  so  than  others.  It  is  now  guing  on 
seven  years  since  the  commencement  of  this  war  I have 
never  had  leave  of  absence  one  hour,  nor  paid  the  least 
attention  to  my  own  private  affairs.  Your  State  is  invad- 
ed-— your  all  is  at  stake.  What  has  been  done  will  signify 
nothing,  unless  we  persevere  to  the  end.  I left  a fami  y 
in  distress,  and  everything  dear  and  valuable,  to  come  and 
afford  you  all  the  assistance  in  my  power,  to  promote  the 
service.  It  must  throw  a damp  upon  the  spirits  of  the 
army,  to  find  that  the  first  men  in  the  State  are  retiring 
from  the  busy  scene,  to  indulge  themselves  in  more  agree- 
able amusements.  However,  your  reasons  for  wishing  to 
decline  the  command  of  the  militia,  and  go  to  Philadel- 
phia, may  be  more  pressing  than  1 imagine  ; I will,  there- 
fore, add  nothing  more  on  this  subject  till  I see  you.” 

The  adroit  mixture  of  reproach  with  commendation, 
was  not  done  without  reflection.  Greene  seems  to  have 
understood  the  character  of  Marion.  But  there  was  some 
oblique  injustice  in  his  letter.  A man’s  patriotism  is  not 
to  be  reproached,  because  he  wishes  to  escape  injustice 
and  indignity.  The  best  of  patriots  will  be  apt  to  become 
disgusted  with  a service  in  which  their  claims  are  neglect- 
ed,  their  performances  slurred  over,  and  their  motives  im- 
peached ; and  this,  too,  at  a period,  and  after  long  periods, 
of  service,  in  which  they  have  watched,  toiled,  and  fought, 
without  hope  or  prospect  of  reward.  When  General 
Greene  compared  the  disagreeableness  of  Marion’s  toils 
with  those  of  others,  he  certainly  overlooked,  not  only  the 
peculiar  character  of  those  toils,  but  the  peculiar  privations 
which  distinguished  the  career  of  Marion’s  men,  and  the 
particularly  painful  duties  which  so  frequently  belonged  to 
it.  His  own  previously  expressed  opinions  with  regard  to 
the  warfare,  as  carried  on  between  Whig  and  Tory  in  the 
south,  will  be  found  to  furnish  a sufficient  commentary 


244 


til  i.  OF  MARION 


upon  the  comparison  which  he  thus  makes.  Greene  him- 
self, by  the  way,  is  not  without  blame  in  some  respects, 
in  relation  to  the  southern  commanders  of  militia.  The 
slighting  manner  in  which  he  spoke  of  them,  and  of  their 
services,  in  letters  not  intended  to  be  public,  was  such, 
that  some  of  them,  Sumter  for  example,  never  forgave 
him.  His  prejudices  were  those  of  the  regular  service, 
the  policy  of  which  is  always  to  disparage  the  militia.  To 
Marion  himself,  his  language  was  of  a different  character. 
Take  the  following  extract  of  a letter,  written  to  the  latter 
only  one  month  before  the  correspondence  above  referred 
to.  This  letter  is  dated,  from  the  camp  before  Camden, 
\pril  24,  1781,  and  will  give  a faint  idea  of  the  true 
o' aims  of  Marion  upon  the  regard  of  his  country.  “ When 
1 consider,”  writes  Greene,  “ how  much  you  have  done 
and  suffered,  and  under  what  disadvantage  you  have  main- 
tained your  ground,  I am  at  a loss  which  to  admire  most, 
your  courage  and  fortitude,  or  your  address  and  manage- 
ment. Certain  it  is,  no  man  has  a better  claim  to  the  pub- 
lic thanks  than  you.  History  affords  no  instance  wherein 
an  officer  has  kept  possession  of  a country  under  so  many 
disadvantages  as  you  have.  Surrounded  on  every  side 
with  a superior  force,  hunted  from  every  quarter  with 
veteran  troops,  you  have  found  means  to  elude  their 
attempts,  and  to  keep  alive  the  expiring  hopes  of  an 
oppressed  militia,  when  all  succor  seemed  to  be  cut  off. 
To  fight  the  enemy  bravely  with  the  prospect  of  victory , is 
nothing  ; but  to  fight  with  intrepidity  under  the  constant  im- 
pression of  defeat , and  inspire  irregular  troops  to  do  it , is  a 
talent  peculiar  to  yourself.  Nothing  will  give  me  greater 
pleasure  than  to  do  justice  to  your  merit,  and  I shall  miss  no 
opportunity  of  declaring  to  Congress,  to  the  commander-in- 
chief of  the  American  army,  and  to  the  world,  the  great  sense 
1 have  of  your  merit  and  your  services.” 


LI  ’ E OF  MARION. 


243 

The  correspondence  of  Greene  with  Marion,  on  the 
subject  of  the  horses,  closed  with  a letter  on  the  part  of 
the  latter,  in  which  he  turned  off  the  affair  on  grounds  that 
proved  his  feelings  tranquillized.  A present  of  a fine  horse, 
for  Greene’s  own  use,  accompanied  this  letter.  It  has 
been  shown  that,  on  the  day  of  the  capture  of  Fort  Motte, 
Greene  rode  into  the  camp  of  Marion,  at  that  place.  We 
can  conceive  of  no  other  motive  for  his  presence  here,  than 
a desire  to  make  his  reconciliation  perfect.  He  brought  no 
force  with  him  to  promote  the  object  of  the  besiegers,  and 
his  stay  was  limited  to  a brief  interview. 

But  the  evil  effect  of  this  affair  did  not  end  here.  The 
militia,  alarmed  at  the  idea  of  having  their  horses  taken 
from  them,  soon  began  to  scatter,  and, pleading  the  planting 
season  upon  which  they  had  entered — some,  indeed,  without 
any  plea, — they  left  the  camp  in  numbers,  and  before  the 
leaguer  was  well  over,  the  force  of  Marion  was  reduced  to 
something  less  than  two  hundred  men.  With  this  remnant 
of  his  brigade,  as  soon  as  Fort  Motte  was  yielded,  Marion 
detached  himself  from  the  regular  troops  and  struck  down 
towards  Monk’s  Corner,  hanging  upon  the  skirts  of  Lord 
Rawdon’s  army,  then  in  full  retreat  from  Camden. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  portions  of  our  traditionary 
history  in  the  South,  will  be  found  to  have  occurred  to  the 
scattered  bodies  of  the  partisan  cavalry,  while  on  their  return 
movements  to  and  from  the  army,  after  such  a dispersion 
as  that  from  which  the  brigade  of  Marion  was  now  suf- 
fering. It  was  no  easy  matter  for  the  small  group,  or  the 
single  trooper,  to  regain  the  family  homestead,  or  the 
friendly  neighborhood  in  which  their  wives  and  little  ones 
were  harbored.  Every  settlement  through  which  they 
passed  had  its  disaffected  population.  It  might  be  small  or 
large,  but  its  numbers  did  net  affect  its  activity,  and,  with 
the  main  body  of  the  Whig?  in  (amp,  or  on  the  road,  the 


;46 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


Tories,  in  remote  sections  of  the  country,  were  generally 
equally  strong  and  daring.  These  waylaid  the  customary 
pathways,  and  aware  of  all  the  material  movements  of  the 
regular  troops,  made  their  arrangements  to  cut  off 
stragglers  or  small  detached  bodies.  When  we  consider 
the  active  malignity  by  which  the  civil  war  in  Carolina  was 
marked  ; the  wild  forests  in  which  it  took  place  ; the  pecu 
liar  ferocity  which  it  stimulated,  and  the  various  character- 
istics of  the  local  modes  o'-  warfare,  the  chase  and  the  sur- 
prise, we  shall  have  no  occasion  for  wonder  at  the  strange 
and  sometimes  terrible  events  by  which  it  was  distinguish- 
ed. One  of  these,  which  occurred  to  Captain,  afterwards 
Colonel  Snipes,  of  Marion’s  brigade,  is  a remarkable  in- 
stance ; and,  as  it  has  been  told  elsewhere,  in  connection 
with  the  life  of  Marion,  it  may  well  claim  a place  in  this 
narrative. 

Snipes  was  a Carolinian,  of  remarkable  strength  and 
courage.  He  was  equally  distinguished  for  his  vindictive 
hatred  of  the  Tories.  He  had  suffered  some  domestic  in- 
juries at  their  hands,  and  he  was  one  who  never  permitted 
himself  to  forgive  His  temper  was  sanguinary  in  the  ex- 
treme, and  led  him,  in  his  treatment  of  the  loyalists,  to  such 
ferocities  as  subjected  him,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  to 
the  harshest  rebuke  of  his  commander.  It  is  not  certain  at 
what  period  in  the  war  the  following  occurrence  took  place, 
but  it  was  on  one  of  those  occasions  when  the  partisan  mili- 
tia claimed  a sort  of  periodical  privilege  of  abandoning  their 
general  to  look  after  their  families  and  domestic  interests. 
Availing  himself  of  this  privilege,  Snipes  pursued  his  way 
to  his  plantation.  His  route  was  a circuitous  one,  but  it 
is  probable  that  he  pursued  it  with  little  caution.  He  was 
more  distinguished  for  audacity  than  prudence.  The  Tories 
fell  upon  his  trail,  which  they  followed  with  the  keen 
avidity  of  the  sleuth-hound.  Snipes  reached  his  planta- 


Jol.  Snipes  saved  by  his  faithful  Negro. — Page  247. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


247 


tion  in  safety,  unconscious  of  pursuit.  Having  examined 
the  homestead  and  received  an  account  of  ail  things  done  in 
his  absence,  from  a faithful  driver,  and  lulled  into  securi- 
ty by  the  seeming  quiet  and  silence  of  the  neighborhood, 
he  retired  to  rest,  and,  after  the  fatigues  of  the  day,  soon 
fell  into  a profound  sleep.  From  this  he  was  awakened 
by  the  abrupt  entrance  and  cries  of  his  driver.  The  faith- 
ful negro  apprised  him,  in  terror,  of  the  approach  of  the 
Tories.  They  were  already  on  the  plantation.  His  vigilance 
alone  prevented  them  from  taking  his  master  in  bed. 
Snipes,  starting  up,  proposed  to  take  shelter  in  the  barn, 
but  the  driver  pointed  to  the  flames  already  bursting  from 
that  building.  He  had  barely  time  to  leave  the  house, 
covered  only  by  his  night  shirt,  and,  by  the  counsel  of  the 
negro,  to  fly  to  the  cover  of  a thick  copse  of  briars  and 
brambles,  within  fifty  yards  of  the  dwelling,  when  the  Tories 
surrounded  it.  The  very  task  of  penetrating  this  copse, 
so  as  to  screen  himself  from  sight,  effectually  removed  the 
thin  garment  which  concealed  his  nakedness.  The  shirt 
was  torn  from  his  back  by  the  briars,  and  the  skin  shared 
in  its  injuries.  But,  once  there, he  lay  effectually  concealed 
from  sight.  Ordinary  conjecture  would  scarcely  have  sup- 
posed that  any  animal  larger  than  a rabbit  would  have 
sought  or  found  shelter  in  such  a region.  The  Tories  im- 
mediately seized  upon  the  negro  and  demanded  his  master, 
at  the  peril  of  his  life.  Knowing  and  fearing  the  courage 
and  the  arm  of  Snipes,  they  did  not  enter  the  dwelling,  but 
adopted  the  less  valorous  mode  of  setting  it  on  fire,  and. 
with  pointed  muskets,  surrounded  it,  in  waiting  for  the 
moment  when  their  victim  should  emerge.  He,  within  a 
few  steps  of  them,  heard  their  threats  and  expectations, 
and  beheld  all  their  proceedings.  The  house  was  con- 
sumed, and  the  intense  heat  of  the  fire  subjected  our  parti- 
san,in  his  place  of  retreat, to  such  torture,  as  none  but  the 


248 


LIFE  OF  MAIIIOK. 


most  doomed  hardihood  could  have  endured  without  com 
plaint.  The  skin  was  peeled  from  his  body  in  many  places, 
and  the  blisters  were  shown  long  after,  to  persons  who  are 
still  living.*  But  Snipes  too  well  knew  his  enemies,  and 
what  he  had  to  expect  at  their  hands,  to  acknowledge 
his  sufferings.  He  bore  the  torture,  which  was  terribly 
increased,  when,  finding  themselves  at  fault,  the  Tories 
brought  forward  the  faithful  negro  who  had  thus  far  saved 
his  master,  and  determined  to  extort  from  him,  in  the  hal- 
ter, the  secret  of  his  hiding-place.  But  the  courage  and 
fidelity  of  the  negro  proved  superior  to  the  terrors  of 
death.  Thrice  was  he  run  up  the  tree,  and  choked  nearly 
to  strangulation,  but  in  vain.  His  capability  to  endure 
proved  superior  to  the  will  of  the  Tories  to  inflict,  and  he 
was  at  length  let  down,  half  dead, — as,  in  truth,  ignorant 
of  the  secret  which  they  desired  to  extort.  What  were  the 
terrors  of  Snipes  in  all  this  trial  ? What  his  feelings  of 
equal  gratitude  and  apprehension  ? How  noble  was  the 
fidelity  of  the  slave — based  upon  what  gentle  and  affection- 
ate relationship  between  himself  and  master — probably 
from  boyhood!  Yet  this  is  but  one  of  a thousand  sucn 
attachments,  all  equally  pure  and  elevated,  and  maintained 
through  not  dissimilar  perils. 

While  Marion  was  operating  against  Forts  Watson  and 
Motte,  Sumter,  with  like  success,  had  besieged  the  British 
posts  at  Orangeburg  and  Granby.  It  was  the  loss  of  these 
posts,  and  the  dread  of  the  subsequent  concentration  of  the 
whole  American  force  against  Camden,  that  had  prompted 
the  destruction  and  abandonment  of  that  place  by  Lord 
Rawdon.  This  was  the  plan  and  object  of  Greene  The 
precipitate  movements  of  Rawdon,  who  anticipated  tne  pur- 

* See  a biographical  sketch  of  Tarlton  Brown,  of  Barnwell, 
S C.,  a soldier  in  the  ’’evolutionary  army.  Charleston,  1844, 
p.  8. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


249 


pose  of  the  former,  necessarily  defeated  it.  Pickens  was 
operating  against  Augusta ; -while  Sumter,  leaving  the 
investment  of  Granby,  the  conquest  of  which  was  consid- 
ered sure,  to  Col.  Taylor,  proceeded  down  the  country, 
with  the  two-fold  object  of  harassing  the  descent  of  the 
British  army,  and  to  prevent  them  from  carrying  off  the 
cattle  of  the  inhabitants.  In  the  former  object,  neither  Ma- 
rion nor  himself  had  much  success.  They  did  not  succeed 
in  effecting  a junction,  and  the  sanguine  desire  of  Sumter, 
with  united  forces,  to  operate  boldly  upcn  the  retreating 
army  of  Rawdon,  was  not  encouraged  by  Greene,  who  pre- 
ferred a safe  and  sure,  though  slow  progress,  to  any  attain- 
ment of  his  end  by  a hazardous  attempt,  however  glorious. 
The  task  of  holding  Rawdon  in  check,  was  confided  to 
Marion  and  Sumter,  while  Greene  proceeded  with  his 
whole  army,  to  the  investment  of  the  post  of  Ninety-Six, 
at  the  village  of  Cambridge.  In  the  execution  of  their 
duties,  the  two  partisans  closed  in  upon  the  British  com- 
mander, until  he  established  a line  of  fortified  posts,  ex- 
tending from  Georgetown,  by  Monk’s  Corner,  Dorchester, 
&c.,  to  Coosawhatchee.  Within  this  line  our  partisans 
continually  made  incursions,  keeping  the  enemy  in  con- 
stant check  and  apprehension.  They  were  not  in  force  to 
do  more.  Georgetown,  however,  separated  by  water 
courses  and  swamps  of  great  magnitude,  from  the  other 
posts,  was  left  with  a garrison  so  feeble,  as  to  tempt  Marion 
to  proceed  against  it.  The  parishes  tha+  be  along  the  San- 
tee, on  both  sides,  towards  its  mouth,  had  turned  out  with 
so  much  zeal  on  his  return  into  their  neighborhood,  that  he 
soon  found  himself  in  sufficient  force  to  cover  the  country 
with  a strong  detachment  under  Col.  Maham,  while,  with 
his  main  body,  he  went  against  Georgetown.  He  appeared 
before  this  place  on  the  6th  of  June,  and  instantly  began  his 
approaches.  But  his  simple  demonstration  was  sufficient. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


<1 10 

The  enemy  made  but  a show  of  resistance.  As  the  attempt 
was  pressed,  the  garrison  fled  to  their  galleys,  and  took  a 
position  in  the  bay  beyond  the  reach  of  the  Americans. 
They  finally  abandoned  the  harbor  altogether.  It  was  not 
in  the  power  of  Marion  to  man  the  post  efficiently,  and  his 
policy  forbade  that  he  should  do  it  inadequately.  Accord- 
ingly, he  deliberately  removed  the  military  stores  and  pub- 
lic property,  up  the  Pedee,  then,  demolishing  the  works, 
returned  to  join  his  detachment  in  St.  Stephens.  While  at 
Georgetown,  however,  it  is  recorded  that  he  replenished 
his  wardrobe,  and  fitted  himself  out  with  a becoming  suit  of 
regimentals.  This  was  an  event,  in  the  career  of  our  par- 
tisan, to  be  remembered  by  his  followers.  He  indulged, 
it  seems,  for  the  first  time,  in  some  other  of  the  luxuries 
of  the  campaigner.  A couple  of  mules  were  employed  for 
the  transportation  of  his  baggage,  and  his  usual  beverage  of 
vinegar  and  water  was  occasionally  diversified  by  a bowl 
of  coffee  at  breakfast.  A little  before  this, — perhaps  soon 
after  General  Greene  had  penetrated  the  State, — he  had  ap- 
pointed himself  a couple  of  secretaries  for  the  purpose  of 
greater  dispatch  in  letter  writing — his  correspondence  ne- 
cessarily increasing,  in  consequence  of  his  connection  with 
the  more  expanded  operations  of  the  army.  State,  he  did 
not  affect,  and  the  simplicity  and  modesty  of  his  character 
may  be  easily  inferred  from  this  petty  enumeration  of  the 
aids  and  comforts  which  he  thought  proper  to  draw  from  his 
successes. 

While  Marion,  in  person,  proceeded  against  Georgetown, 
Col.  Peter  Horry  was  dispatched  with  a strong  body  of 
men  against  the  loyalists  on  the  Pedee,  a wild  and  blood- 
thirsty band  of  borderers,  under  the  conduct  of  Major  Gai- 
ney, of  whom  we  have  had  occasion  to  speak  already. 
Horry  succeeded  in  awing  Gainey  into  submission,  and  in 
extorting  from  him  a treaty  by  which  he  consented,  with  his 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


251 


officers  and  men,  to  maintain  a condition  of  neutrality 
This  submission,  though  complete,  was  but  temporary.  It 
required  subsequently  the  decisive  proceedings  of  Marion, 
and  his  personal  presence,  to  enforce  its  provisions.  But  of 
this  hereafter. 

While  Greene,  with  the  main  American  army,  was  pro- 
ceeding against  Ninety-Six,  preparations  were  made  by  the 
British  in  Charleston,  for  ravaging  the  country  on  the  south 
side  of  the  Santee.  The  people  of  St.  John’s  and  St.  Ste- 
phen’s parishes,  had  shown  too  active  a zeal  in  the  cause 
of  liberty,  to  escape  punishment,  and  it  was  resolved  that 
their  country  should  be  laid  waste.  The  loyalists  ot 
Charleston,  and  that  vicinity,  had  been  embodied  in  a regi- 
ment, and,  under  Col.  Ball,  prepared  to  carry  this  design 
into  execution.  But  Marion,  apprised  by  his  scouts  and 
spies  of  every  movement  in  the  city,  and  unable  with  his 
present  force  to  meet  with  that  of  Ball,  determined,  how- 
ever painful  the  necessity,  to  anticipate  his  proceedings ; 
and,  with  his  usual  celerity,  he  laid  waste  the  country 
himself;  removing  across  the  Santee  to  places  of  safety, 
not  only  all  the  stock  and  cattle,  but  all  the  provisions,  that 
could  be  collected.  They  were  thus  saved,  as  well  for  the 
subsistence  of  his  men,  as  for  the  proprietor.  Anxious  to 
oppose  himself  more  actively  to  the  enemy,  he  sent  press- 
ing dispatches  to  Greene  for  assistance  in  covering  the  coun 
try.  Col.  Washington,  with  his  admirable  corps  of  cavalry, 
was  accordingly  dispatched  to  his  assistance.  We  have 
seen  that  the  commander-in-chief  had  proceeded  in  person 
against  the  British  post  at  Ninety-Six.  To  Sumter  and 
Marion  had  been  entrusted  the  care  of  Rawdon.  They 
were  required  to  check  and  prevent  his  progress  in  the 
event  of  any  attempt  which  he  might  make  to  relieve  the 
post  They  were  unsuccessful  in  doing  so.  The  arrival 
of  a British  fleet  with  reinforcements,  comprising  three 


252 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


fresh  regiments  from  Ireland,  enabled  Rawdon  to  despise  any 
attempts,  which,  with  their  inferior  force,  our  partisans 
might  make.  Some  idea  of  the  diligence  of  Marion  and  the 
excellence  of  his  plans  for  procuring  intelligence,  may  be 
gathered  from  the  fact  that  the  Charleston  paper  of  the  2d 
of  June,  announcing  the  arrival  of  these  regiments,  was  in* 
nis  possession  the  very  day  on  which  it  was  printed,  and 
transmitted  instantly,  through  Sumter’s  command,  to 
Greene.*  Greene  was  unsuccessful  in  his  attempts  on 
Ninety-Six.  The  place  was  relieved,  after  an  obstinate 
defence,  by  Rawdon,  who,  with  his  new  troops,  by  forced 
marches,  arrived  in  time  for  its  deliverance.  Greene  was 
compelled  to  retreat  after  much  sanguinary  fighting.  He 
was  pursued  by  Rawdon  for  a small  distance  ; but  the  lat- 
ter, contenting  himself  with  having  rescued,  withdrew  the 
garrison,  and  abandoned  the  place  to  the  Americans.  He 
was'  in  no  condition  to  pursue  his  enemy  or  to  maintain  his 
position.  His  Irish  regiments  were  not  to  be  trusted,  and 
the  maintenance  of  the  city  and  the  seaboard  were  para- 
mount considerations.  With  such  active  and  enterprising 
foes  as  Marion  and  Sumter,  between  his  army  and  his  gar 
rison,  he  felt  the  insecurity  of  his  hold  upon  the  country. 
His  posts  in  the  interior  had  now  everywhere  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  Americans.  Augusta,  with  the  three 
posts,  Cornwallis,  Grierson  and  Galphin,  had  just  been 
yielded  to  the  arms  of  Pickens  and  Lee.  There  were  no 
longer  any  intermediate  posts  of  defence,  from  Orangeburg 
to  Ninety-Six,  and  the  latter  was  now  so  thoroughly  iso- 
lated, that  prudence  led  to  its  abandonment.  This  neces- 
sity brought  with  it  another,  which  was  much  more  pain- 
ful and  humiliating  to  the  unfortunate  loyalists  of  that  coun- 
try, wno  had  so  long  sided  with  the  British  arms  against 
their  countrymen.  They  were  compelled  to  abandon  theii 


* Johnson’s  Greene,  vol.  ii.,  p.  146. 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


253 


nomes  and  share  the  fortunes  of  the  retreating  army.  They 
were  without  refuge,  and  the  spirit  of  the  warfare  had  beer 
such  as  to  leave  them  hopeless  of  mercy  in  any  encounter 
with  the  Whigs.  A mournful  cavalcade  followed  in  the 
train  of  the  British  army,  and  retarded  its  progress.  Greene, 
as  he  discovered  Rawdon’s  movements  to  be  retrograde, 
turned  upon  his  retreating  footsteps.  His  cavalry  harassed 
the  enemy  and  hastened  his  flight.  At  Ancrum’s  ferry  on 
the  Congaree,  Greene,  in  advance  of  his  army,  joined  Ma- 
rion and  Washington,  the  latter  with  his  cavalry,  the  for- 
mer with  four  hundred  mounted  militia;  and, at  the  head  of 
these  two  corps,  pressing  down  the  Orangeburg  road,  on  the 
6th  of  July,  he  succeeded  in  passing  Lord  Rawdon.  Re- 
taining command  of  Washington’s  cavalry,  he  dispatched 
Marion  with  his  mounted  militia  to  intercept  a valuable 
convoy,  freighted  not  only  for  relief  of  Rawdon’s  army, 
but  with  all  the  various  supplies  and  material  necessary  for 
the  establishment  of  the  British  post  at  Granby.  Marion 
was  unsuccessful.  The  convoy  under  Lieut. -Col.  Stewart 
escaped  without  being  conscious  of  its  danger.  He  had 
taken  one  of  two  roads,  while  Marion  watched  for  him 
upon  the  other.  On  the  morning  of  the  Sth,  Stewart  and 
Rawdon  effected  a junction  in  Orangeburg.  The  condi- 
tion of  the  British  army  on  that  day  is  thus  described  in  a 
letter  of  Marion  to  Greene  : 

“ Their  troops  are  so  fatigued  they  cannot  possibly  move 
Three  regiments  were  going  to  lay  down  their  arms,  and  it 
is  believed  they  will  to-day,  if  they  are  ordered  to  march. 
They  have  no  idea  of  any  force  being  near  them.” 

At  Orangeburg,  Rawdon  was  too  strongly  posted  for  any 
attempts  of  Greene.  Here,  with  his  own  force  and  th  -.i 
of  Stewart,  numbering  fifteen  hundred  men,  he  was  joined 
by  Col.  Cruger  from  Ninety-Six,  with  thirteen  hundred 
more.  Orangeburg  is  situated  on  the  east  bank  of  ‘he 


2o4 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


North  Edisto,  which  half  encircles  it.  North  and  south  are 
swamps  and  ravines,  which  so  nearly  approach  each  other 
as  to  leave  but  a narrow  and  broken  passage  on  the  east 
side.  The  gaol,  a strong  brick  building  of  two  stories,  not 
inferior  to  a strong  redoubt,  with  some  other  buildings,  com* 
manded  the  approach.  “ The  crown  of  the  hill  on  which 
it  stood,  was  sufficiently  spacious  for  manceuvering  the  whole 
British  army,  and  the  houses  and  fences  afforded  shelter 
igainst  all  attempts  of  the  American  cavalry  or  mounted 
militia,”  while,  in  case  of  defeat,  the  bridge  in  their  rear 
afforded  as  secure  means  of  retreat.  An  attempt  upon  such 
a position,  with  a force  consisting  chiefly  of  mounted  in- 
fantry, would  have  been  folly,  and  Greene,  after  a brief 
demonstrat  ion,  determined  to  withdraw  one  half  of  his  army 
towards  the  Congaree,  while  the  other  was  sent  forward 
upon  that  memorable  incursion  into  the  lower  country,  by 
which  the  enemy,  from  all  quarters,  were  driven  into 
Charleston;  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  force  at  Orange- 
burg, for  a brief  period,  every  vestige  of  British  power  was 
swept  away,  down  to  the  very  gates  of  the  former  place 
The  command  of  this  detachment  was  given  to  Sumter. 
Acting  under  him,  were  Marion,  Lee,  the  Hamptons,  Tay- 
lor, Horry,  Maham,  and  others  of  those  active  partisans 
who  had  kept  alive  the  war  from  the  beginning.  The 
command  consisted  of  all  the  State  troops,  Lee’s  legion, 
and  a detachment  of  artillery,  with  one  field  piece ; in  all 
about  a thousand  men.  The  object  of  this  movement  was 
not  only  to  strike  at  the  British  line  of  posts,  but  to  divert 
the  attention  of  Rawdon  from  the  Congaree,  where  it  was 
his  policy  to  re-establish  himself  in  force. 

The  force  under  Sumter,  as  it  approached  the  scene  of 
operations,  was  broken  into  separate  detachments  Dor- 
chester w as  yielded  without  resistance  to  the  corps  under 
Lee,  while  Col  Wade  Hampton,  pressing  to  the  very  lines 


life  of  Marion. 


255 


of  Charleston,  captured  the  guard  and  patrol  at  the  Quar- 
ter House,  and  spread  terror  through  the  city.  Sumter 
and  Marion  then  proceeded  against  the  post  at  Biggin, 
held  by  Col.  Coates  of  the  British  army,  a spirited  otfi- 
cei,  with  a garrison  of  five  hundred  infantry,  one  hundred 
and  fifty  horse,  and  one  piece  of  artillery.  The  post  at 
Biggin  consisted  of  a redoubt  at  Monk’s  Corner,  and  the 
church,  about  a mile  distant,  near  Biggin  Bridge.  This 
church  was  a strong  brick  building,  which  covered  the 
bridge,  and  secured  the  retreat  at  that  point,  by  wray  of 
Monk’s  Corner.  Biggin  Creek  is  one  of  many  streams 
which  empty  into  Cooper  river.  Of  these,  it  is  the  most 
northwardly.  On  the  east  of  this  creek,  the  road  to 
Charleston  crosses  Watboo  and  Quinby  Creeks.  The 
destruction  of  Watboo  bridge  rendered  impracticable  the 
retreat  by  the  eastern  route,  and  this  bridge,  accordingly, 
became  an  important  object  to  both  the  British  and  Ameri- 
cans. A detachment  of  Marion’s  men,  under  Col.  Ma- 
ham,  was  sent  forward  to  destroy  the  Watboo  bridge,  and 
thus  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  enemy.  But  the  position  and 
force  of  Col.  Coates  prevented  the  approach  of  Maham, 
and  he  waited  the  advance  of  the  main  body.  On  the 
16th  July,  he  was  reinforced  by  a detachment  under 
Col.  Peter  Horry,  who,  assuming  the  command,  pro- 
ceeded to  the  attempt  upon  the  bridge.  The  enemy’s 
cavalry  opposed  themselves  to  the  attempt ; a short  ac- 
tion ensued  ; they  were  defeated,  and  driven  back  wfith 
loss.  Tho  mounted  riflemen  broke  through  them,  and  a 
number  of  prisoners  were  taken.  Horry  then  dispatched 
a party  to  destroy  the  bridge,  and  remained  to  cover  the 
men  engaged  in  the  work.  But  the  enemy  soon  re- 
appeared in  force,  and  Horry,  with  his  working  party,  was 
compelled  to  retire,  in  turn,  upon  the  main  body.  Sumter, 
believing  that  Coales  had  marched  out  to  give  him  battle, 


256 


LIFE  OF  M A It  I 0 N . 


took  post  in  a defile,  and  awaited  him  ; but  the  purpose  of 
the  enemy  was  only  to  gain  time — to  wear  out  the  day, 
amusing  him,  while  they  made  secret  preparations  for 
flight.  Their  stores  were  accumulated  in  the  church, 
which  had  been  their  fortress,  and,  at  midnight,  the  flames 
bursting  through  the  roof  of  the  devoted  building  an- 
nounced to  the  Americans  the  retreat  of  the  foe.  The 
pursuit  was  immediately  commenced,  and,  in  order  that 
it  might  not  be  impeded,  the  only  piece  of  artillery  which 
Sumter  had,  was  unfortunately  left  behind,  under  Lieut. 
Singleton.  Lee  and  Hampton  led  the  pursuit  until,  hav- 
ing passed  the  Watboo,  they  discovered  that  the  cavalry 
of  the  enemy  had  separated  from  the  infantry,  taking 
the  right  hand  route.  Hampton  then  struck  off  in  pur- 
suit of  the  former,  in  hope  to  overtake  them  before  they 
could  reach  the  river  ; but  he  urged  his  panting  horses 
in  vain.  They  had  completed  their  escape,  and  secured 
the  boats  on  the  opposite  side,  before  he  could  come 
up  with  them. 

Marion’s  cavalry,  meanwhile,  under  Col.  Maham,  had 
joined  the  Legion  cavalry  in  pursuit  of  the  infantry. 
About  a mile  to  the  north  of  Quinby  Creek,  the  rear- 
guard of  the  retreating  army  was  overtaken.  With  this 
body,  which  consisted  of  one  hundred  men,  under  Capt. 
Campbell,  was  nearly  all  the  baggage  of  the  British  army 
Terrified  by  the  furious  charge  of  the  Americans,  they 
threw  down  their  arms  without  firing  a gun.  Favored  by 
this  circumstance,  the  cavalry  of  Maham,  and  the  Legion, 
pressed  forward.  Coates  had  passed  Quinby  Bridge,  and 
made  dispositions  for  its  demolition,  as  soon  as  the  rear- 
guard and  baggage  should  have  uassed.  The  planks  which 
covered  the  bridge  had  been  loosened  from  the  sleepers, 
and  a howitzer,  at  the  opposite  extremity,  was  placed  to 
check  the  pursuit  But,  as  the  rear-guard  had  been  cap* 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


257 


tured  without  firing  a shot,  their  commander  was  imap- 
prised  of  their  fate,  and  unprepared  for  immediate  defence. 
Fortunately  for  his  command,  he  was  present  at  the  bridge 
when  the  American  cavalry  came  in  view.  His  main  body, 
at  this  moment,  was  partly  on  the  causeway,  on  the  south 
side  of  the  bridge,  and  partly  pressed  into  a lane  beyond  it— 
in  both  situations  so  crowded  as  to  be  almost  wholly  inca 
pable  of  immediate  action.  Coates,  however,  coolly  took 
measures  for  his  safety.  Orders  were  dispatched  to  them 
to  halt,  form,  and  march  up,  whilst  the  artillerists  were 
summoned  to  the  howitzer,  and  the  fatigue  party  to  the 
destruction  of  the  bridge. 

The  legion  cavalry  were  in  advance  of  Maham’s  com- 
mand. Captain  Armstrong  led  the  first  section.  Their 
approach  to  the  bridge  was  marked  by  all  the  circumstances 
of  danger.  They  were  pressing  upon  each  other  into  a 
narrow  causeway,  the  planks  of  the  bridge  were  fast  sliding 
into  the  water,  and  the  blazing  port-fire  hung  over  the  how- 
itzer. The  disappearance  of  the  fatigue  party  from  the 
bridge  would  be  the  signal  for  it  to  vomit  death  upon  the 
ranks  of  the  approaching;  Americans.  There  was  no  time 
for  deliberation.  Armstrong,  followed  close  by  his  section, 
dashed  over  the  bridge  and  drove  the  artillerists  from  the 
gun.  Lieutenant  Carrington  followed,  but  the  third  sec- 
tion faltered.  Maham,  of  Marion’s  cavalry,  feeling  the 
halt,  charged  by  them ; but  the  death  of  his  horse  arrested 
his  career.  Captain  Macauley,  who  led  his  front  section, 
pressed  on  and  passed  the  bridge.  The  causeway  was  now 
crowded ; the  conflict  was  hand  to  hand.  Some  of  the 
working  party,  snatching  up  their  guns,  delivered  a single 
fire  and  fled.  Two  of  the  legion  dragoons  were  slain  at  the 
mouth  of  the  howitzer,  several  wounded.  But  the  officers 
remained  unhurt.  Coates,  with  several  of  the  British,  cov- 
ered by  a wagon,  opposed  them  with  their  swords,  while 


25S 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


their  troops  were  hurrying  forward  to  where  they  could 
display.  Meanwhile,  Lee,  with  the  rest  of  the  legion,  had 
reached  the  bridge,  which  they  proceeded  to  repair.  A mo- 
mentary pause  for  reflection,  a glance  before  and  around 
them,  revealed  to  Armstrong  and  Macauley,  the  fact  that 
they  were  almost  alone,  unsupported  by  their  party,  and 
with  the  British  recovering  themselves  in  front.  They  re- 
flected that,  only  while  the  British  officers  were  in  their 
rear,  should  they  be  secure  from  the  fire  of  the  enemy  in 
front;  and, urging  their  way  through  the  flying  soldiers  on  the 
causeway,  they  wheeled  into  the  woods  on  their  left,  and 
escaped  by  heading  the  stream.  Had  they  been  followed 
by  the  whole  party, boldly  charging  across  the  bridge,  the 
entire  force  of  the  enemy  must  have  laid  down  their  arms. 
The  British  were  so  crowded  in  the  lane  and  causeway, 
in  such  inextricable  confusion,  without  room  to  display  or 
to  defend  themselves,  that  they  must  have  yielded  by  spon- 
taneous movement  to  avoid  being  cut  to  pieces.  The 
reproach  lies  heavily  against  the  halting  cavalry,  that  could 
leave  to  their  fate  the  brave  fellows  who  had  crossed  the 
bridge. 

Colonel  Coates  dared  not  longer  trust  himself  in  the  open 
country  in  the  face  of  a cavalry  so  active  and  powerful. 
Retiring  to  Shubrick’s  plantation,  after  destroying  the 
bridge,  he  resolved  to  defend  himself  under  cover  of  the 
buildings  These  were  situated  on  a rising  ground,  and 
consisted  of  a dwelling-house  of  two  stories,  with  outhouses 
and  fences.  They  afforded  security  against  cavalry,  and  a 
good  covering  from  the  American  marksmen. 

It  was  not  till  3 o’clock,  P.  M.,  that  Sumter,  with  the 
main  body  of  the  Americans,  reached  the  ground.  He 
found  the  British  drawn  up  in  a square  in  front  of  the  house, 
and  ready  to  receive  him.  As  he  had  very  few  bayonets, 
to  march  directly  up  to  the  attack  would  have  been  out  of 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


259 


the  question.  He  divided  his  force  into  three  bodies.  His 
own  brigade,  led  by  Cols.  Middleton  and  Polk,  Taylor  and 
Lacy,  advanced  in  front,  under  shelter  of  a line  of  negro 
houses,  which  they  were  ordered  to  occupy.  Marion’s 
brigade,  thrown  into  two  divisions,  was  ordered  to  advance 
on  the  right  of  the  British,  where  there  was  no  shelter  but 
that  of  fences,  and  those  within  forty  or  fifty  yards  of  the 
houses  held  by  the  enemy.  The  cavalry  constituted  a 
reserve,  to  cover  the  infantry  from  pursuit. 

Sumter’s  brigade  soon  gained  the  negro  houses,  from 
whence  they  delivered  their  rifles  with  great  effect.  Col. 
Taylor  with  about  forty-five  men  of  his  regiment,  pressing 
forward  to  the  fences  on  the  enemy’s  left,  drew  upon  him 
the  bayonets  of  the  British,  before  which  they  yielded. 
Mai  ion’s  men,  in  the  meantime,  seeing  the  danger  of  Tay- 
lor’s party,  with  a degree  of  firmness  and  gallantry  which 
would  have  done  honor  to  any  soldiers,  rushed  through  a 
galling  fire  and  extricated  them;  and,  notwithstanding  the 
imperfect  covering  afforded  them  by  the  rail  fence  along 
which  they  ranged  themselves,  they  continued  to  fight  and 
fire  as  long  as  a single  charge  of  ammunition  remained  with 
the  corps.  The  brunt  of  the  battle  fell  upon  them,  and  they 
maintained  in  this,  the  reputation  acquired  in  many  a border 
struggle.  More  than  fifty  men,  all  of  Marion’s,  were  killed 
or  wounded  in  this  affair,  but  the  loss  did  not  dispirit  the 
survivors.  They  were  drawn  off  in  perfect  order,  only 
when  their  ammunition  was  expended. 

The  fight  lasted  three  hours,  from  four  o’clock  until  dark 
Seventy  of  the  British  fell.  But  the  want  of  the  field-piece 
left  behind  with  Singleton,  and  the  failure  of  their  ammu- 
nition, not  a charge  of  which  remained  with  the  Americans 
at  the  close  of  the  fight,  saved  the  enemy,  whose  infantry 
alone,  according  to  Sumter,  was  superior  to  his  whole  force. 
The  Americans  attacked  them  with  half  their  number 


260 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


But  Coates  held  his  position,  and  tidings  of  the  approacn 
of  Rawdon,  who  had  left  Orangeburg,  prompted  Sumter  to 
retreat  across  the  Santee.  His  expedition  had*  not  been 
successful.  It  does  not  concern  us  to  inquire  by  whose 
errors  or  defects  it  failed.  Enough,  that,  in  all  things, 
where  Marion  and  his  men  were  concerned,  they  acquitted 
themselves  in  a manner  calculated  to  sustain  their  former 
reputation.  The  attack  upon  Coates  at  the  house,  we  are 
told,  was  made  against  Marion’s  opinion,  who  blamed  Sum- 
ter for  wasting  the  lives  of  his  men.  Without  a field-piece, 
it  was  scarcely  possible  that  an  inferior  should  have  suc- 
ceeded against  a superior  force,  in  a strong  position.  Sum- 
ter was  courageous  to  rashness.  His  spirit  could  not  be 
restrained  in  sight  of  the  enemy.  With  a brave  force  at 
his  command,  he  was  not  satisfied  to  be  idle,  and  his  cour- 
age was  frequently  exercised  at  the  expense  of  his  judg- 
ment. The  men  of  Marion  complained  that  they  had  been 
exposed  unnecessarily  in  the  conflict.  It  is  certain  that 
they  were  the  only  sufferers.  Had  Sumter  but  waited  for 
his  artillery,  and  simply  held  the  enemy  in  check,  the  vic- 
tory must  have  been  complete,  and  this  victory  was  of  the 
last  importance  to  the  Americans.  It  would  have  involved 
the  loss  of  one  entire  British  regiment,  at  a moment  when, 
two  others  having  been  required  at  New  York  from  South 
Carolina,  the  force  remaining  with  Rawdon  would  have 
been  barely  adequate  to  the  retention  of  Charleston.  This 
necessity  would  have  withdrawn  the  latter  general  at  once 
from  Orangeburg,  and  the  subsequent  bloody  battle  of 
Eutaw  would  have  been  averted  accordingly.  Greene, 
speaking  of  this  combat,  writes  : — The  affair  was  clever, 
but  by  no  means  equal  to  what  it  ought  to  have  been.  The 
whole  regiment  of  six  hundred  men  would  have  been  cap- 
tured, if  General  Sumter  had  not  detailed  too  much,  and 
had  not  mistaken  a covering  party  for  an  attack.”  It  may 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


261 


oe  added,  that  the  party  actually  engaged  in  the  attack  on 
Coates,  were  almost  exclusively  South  Carolina  militia. 
Under  favorite  leaders  they  had  betrayed  no  such  apprehen- 
sions as  are  natural  enough  to  men  who  lack  confidence  in 
themselves  and  captains.  They  had  shown  the  courage  of 
veterans,  though  they  may  have  failed  of  ‘nat  entire  suc- 
cess which  is  usually  supposed  to  follow  from  a veteran 
experience. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


Marion  moves  secietly  to  Pon-Pon. — Rescues  Col  Harden. — De- 
feats Major  Frazier  at  Parker’s  Ferry. — Joins  the  mam  army 
under  Greene. — Battle  of  Eutaw. 

After  the  battle  of  Quinby  the  joint  forces  of  Sumter  and 
Marion  were  separated.  The  former  retired  up  the  Con- 
garee  ; the  latter  took  charge  of  the  country  on  the  Santee  ; 
while  Greene  placed  himself  in  a camp  of  rest  at  the  High 
Hills  in  the  district  which  has  since  taken  the  name  of  Sum- 
ter. His  troops  were  in  a wretched  state  of  incapacity,  in  con- 
sequence of  sickness.  The  region  to  which  he  retired  was  fa- 
mous for  its  salubrity,  and  the  intense  heat  of  the  season  effec- 
tually forbade  muchmilitary activity.  The  opposinggenerals 
were  content  to  watch  each  other.  It  was  while  he  held  this 
position  that  Col.  Hayne,  of  the  militia,  was  executed  as  a 
traitor  by  the  British . The  case  of  this  gentleman  was 
that  of  many  in  the  State.  He  had  taken  parole  at  a time 
when  the  country  was  overrun  by  the  enemy.  This  parole 
was  subsequently  withdrawn  by  the  conquerors,  when 
they  supposed  the  people  to  have  been  subdued,  and  de- 
sired their  services  as  militia.  But  the  British  were  in 
turn  driven  from  the  field.  The  Americans  acquired  the 
ascendant.  The  section  of  the  country  in  which  Hayne 
resided  was  overrun  by  a detachment  of  Marion,  under 
Col.  Harden,  and  Hayne  availed  himself  of  the  occasion 
to  take  up  arms  for  his  country.  He  was  a popular  gen- 
tleman, and  soon  gathered  a strong  party  of  militia.  His 
career  was  distinguished  by  some  small  successes,  and,  with 


LIFE  OF  MARION  2b'3 

a partv  of  Col.  Harden’s  horse,  by  a sudden  dash  in  the 
vicinity  of  Charleston,  he  succeeded  in  taking  prisonei 
General  Williamson,  formerly  of  the  Americans,  whose  life 
was  forfeited  to  the  country.  The  capture  of  W illiamson 
put  all  the  available  cavalry  of  the  British  into  activity,  and 
by  an  unfortunate  indiscretion,  Hayne  suffered  himself  to 
be  overtaken.  His  execution  soon  followed  his  capture 
This  was  a proceeding  equally  barbarous  and  unjustifiable — 
neither  sanctioned  by  policy  nor  propriety.  It  took  place 
after  a brief  examination,  and  without  any  trial.  The  pro- 
ceeding was  equally  unauthorized  by  civil  and  martial  law 
It  was  not  long  before  this,  as  the  reader  will  remember, 
that  Marion,  in  consequence  of  the  execution  of  some  of 
his  men  by  the  British,  had  threatened  them  with  retalia- 
tion. Greene,  who  knew  the  decisive  character  of  Marion, 
and  was  apprehensive  that  this  wanton  crime  would  render 
him  as  prompt  as  he  was  fearless,  in  avenging  it,  thus 
writes  to  prevent  him  : “ Do  not  take  any  measures  in  the 
matter  towards  retaliation,  for  I do  not  intend  to  retaliate 
upon  the  Tory  officers,  but  the  British.  It  is  my  intention 
to  demand  the  reasons  of  the  Colonel’s  being  put  to  death ; 
and  if  they  are  unsatisfactory,  as  I am  sure  they  will  be, 
and  if  they  refuse  to  make  satisfaction,  as  I expect  they 
will,  to  publish  my  intention  of  giving  no  quarter  to  British 
officers,  of  any  rank,  that  fall  into  our  hands.  Should  wre 
attempt  to  retaliate  upon  their  militia  officers,  I am  sure 
they  would  persevere  in  the  measure,  in  order  to  increase 
the  animosity  between  the  Whigs  and  Tories,  that  they 
might  stand  idle  spectators,  and  see  them  butcher  each 
other.  As  I do  not  wish  my  intentions  known  to  the 
enemy  hut  through  an  official  channel,  and  as  this  will  be 
delayed  for  some  few  days  to  give  our  friends  in  St.  Augus- 
tine time  to  get  off,  I wish  you  not  to  mention  the  matter  to 
any  mortal  out  of  your  family.” 


264 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


Weems  represents  Marion  as  being  greatly  averse  to  this 
measure  of  retaliation,  and  as  having  censured  those  officers 
of  the  regular  army  who  demanded  of  Greene  the  adoption 
of  this  remedy.  But  the  biographer  wrote  rather  from  his 
own  benevolent  nature  than  from  the  record.  Marion  had 
no  scruples  about  the  necessity  of  such  a measure  in  parti- 
cular cases ; and,  however  much  he  might  wish  to  avoid 
its  execution,  he  was  yet  fully  prepared  to  adopt  it  when- 
ever the  policy  of  the  proceeding  was  unquestionable. 
Fortunately,  the  decisive  resolutions  which  were  expressed 
by  the  Americans,  their  increasing  successes,  the  fact  that 
they  had  several  British  officers  of  reputation  in  their 
hands,— all  conspired  to  produce,  in  the  minds  of  the 
enemy,  a greater  regard  to  the  rights  of  justice  and  hu- 
manity. As  retaliation  in  such  cases  is  justifiable  only  as 
a preventive  and  remedial  measure,  it  now  ceased  to  be 
necessary  ; and, with  proper  views  of  the  affair,  the  resolves 
of  Greene  and  Marion  were  suffered  to  remain  unexpunged, 
in  proof  of  their  indignation,  rather  than  their  purpose. 
But  a few  days  had  elapsed  after  the  execution  of  Hayne 
when  a party  of  Marion’s  men,  under  Captain  Ervine,  fell 
in  with  and  captured  a favorite  British  officer,  Captain 
Campbell,  with  two  subalterns,  in  charge  of  a convoying 
detachment.  They  were  at  once  committed  to  the  provost 
guard,  and  soon  communicated  their  apprenensions  to 
Charleston.  A meeting  of  British  officers  was  held,  and 
their  dissatisfaction  at  this  new  feature,  introduced  into  the 
warfare  of  the  country, was  expressed  in  such  terms,  as 
contributed,  along  with  the  prompt  proceedings  of  the 
Americans,  to  bring  Balfour,  the  commandant  of  Charles- 
ton, under  whose  authority  the  execution  of  Hayne  had 
taken  place,  to  a better  sense  of  mercy  and  prudence.  We 
shall  have  no  farther  occasion  to  refer  to  these  proceedings. 
It  is  enough  that  the  threat  of  retaliation,  followed  up  by 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


26t> 


such  decided  movements  as  left  no  doubt  of  the  resolution 
of  the  Americans,  produced  all  the  beneficial  effects  which 
could  have  accrued  from  its  execution. 

The  incursion  of  Sumter  and  Marion  into  the  low  coun- 
try, drew  Lord  Rawdon  from  Orangeburg,  with  five  hun- 
dred men,  to  Charleston,  from  which  place,  after  lingering 
just  long  enough  to  witness  the  death  of  Hayne,  he  sailed 
for  New  York.  He  left  Lieut.-Col.  Stewart  in  command 
at  Orangeburg.  From  this  post,  Stewart  moved  to  Mc- 
Cord’s ferry,  on  the  Congaree,  on  the  south  side  of  which 
he  took  post,  amidst  the  hills  near  the  confluence  of  the 
Wateree  and  Congaree.  Greene’s  camp  lay  directly  op- 
posite, and  the  fires  of  the  mutual  armies  were  distinctly 
seen  by  each  other.  The  heat  of  the  weather  suspended 
all  regular  military  operations.  Two  large  rivers  inter- 
vening secured  each  from  sudden  attack,  and  their  toils 
were  confined  to  operating  in  small  detachments,  for  forag- 
ing or  convoy.  In  this  service,  on  the  American  side,  Col 
Washington  was  detached— as  soon  as  the  course  of 
Stewart  was  ascertained — -down  the  country  across  the 
Santee  ; Lee  was  sent  upward,  along  the  north  bank  of  the 
Congaree  ; the  latter  to  operate  with  Col.  Henderson,  then 
in  command  of  Sumter’s  brigade,  at  Fridig’s  ftrry,  and  the 
former  to  strike  at  the  communication  between  the  enemy 
and  Charleston,  and  to  co-operate  with  Marion  and  Maham, 
in  covering  the  lower  Santee.  Col.  Harden,  at  the  same 
time,  with  a body  of  mounted  militia,  had  it  in  charge  to 
straiten  the  enemy  upon  the  Edisto. 

The  activity  of  these  several  parties  and  their  frequent 
successes,  were  such  that  Stewart  was  compelled  to  look 
for  his  supplies  to  the  country  below  him.  This  necessity 
caused  him  to  re-establish  and  strengthen  the  post  at  Dor- 
chester, in  order  to  cover  the  communication  by  Orange- 
burg; and  to  place  a force  at  Fairlawn,  near  the  head  of 

12 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


288 

the  navigation  of  Cooper  river,  from  which  supplies  ram 
Charleston  were  transported  to  head-quarters  over  land. 
As  this  route  was  watched  by  Marion,  Washington  and 
Mahatn,  the  British  commander  was  compelled,  in  order 
to  secure  the  means  of  communication  with  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  Congaree  and  to  draw  supplies  from  thence, 
to  transport  boats  adapted  to  the  purpose,  on  wagon- 
wheels,  from  Fairlawn  to  the  Congaree. 

Such  were  the  relative  positions  of  the  two  armies  unth 
the  22d  of  August,  wffien  Greene,  calling  in  all  his  detach- 
ments except  those  under  Marion,  Maham  and  Harden, 
broke  up  his  camp  at  the  High  Hills  and  proceeded  to 
Howell’s  ferry,  on  the  Congaree,  with  the  intention  im- 
mediately to  cross  it  and  advance  upon  Stewart.  That  offi- 
cer, on  hearing  of  the  movement  of  the  Americans,  fell 
back  upon  his  reinforcements  and  convoys,  and  took  up 
a strong  position  at  the  Eutaw  Springs. 

Meanwhile,  Marion  disappeared  from  the  Santee  on  one 
of  those  secret  expeditions  in  which  his  wonderful  celerity 
and  adroit  management  conducted  his  men  so  frequently  to 
success.  His  present  aim  was  the  Pon-Pon.  Col.  Harder 
was  at  this  time  in  that  quarter,  and  closely  pressed  by  a 
superior  British  force  of  five  hundred  men.  Detaching  a 
party  of  mounted  militia  to  the  neighborhood  of  Dorches- 
ter and  Monk’s  Corner,  as  much  to  divert  the  enemy  from 
his  own  movements  as  with  any  other  object,  he  proceeded 
with  two  hundred  picked  men  on  his  secret  expedition. 

By  a forced  march,  he  crossed  the  country  from  St. 
Stephen’s  to  the  Edisto- — passing  through  both  lines  of  the 
enemy’s  communication  with  Charleston,  and  reached 
Harden — a distance  of  one  hundred  miles — in  season  for 
his  relief.  His  approach  and  arrival  were  totally  unsus- 
pected by  the  enemy,  for  whom  he  prepared  an  amoush  in 


Marion  defeating  Major  Frazier  at  Parker’s  Ferry. — Pag*:  266. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


267 


a swamp  near  Parker’s  ferry.  A small  body  of  his  swift- 
est horse  were  sent  out  to  decoy  the  British  into  the 
snare.  A white  feather,  rather  too  conspicuously  worn  by 
one  of  his  men  in  ambush,  had  nearly  defeated  his  design 
Some  Tories  passing,  discovered  this  unnecessary  plumage, 
and  one  of  them  fired  upon  the  wearer.  This  led  to  an 
exchange  of  shots  ; but  Major  Frazier,  by  whom  the  British 
were  commanded,  assuming  the  party  thus  concealed  to  be 
that  of  Harden,  whom  it  was  his  aim  to  find,  pursued  the 
horsemen  whom  Marion  had  sent  out  to  entice  him  to  the 
ambuscade.  His  cavalry  was  led  at  full  charge  within 
forty  yards  of  the  concealed  riflemen.  A deadly  fire  was 
poured  in,  under  which  the  British  recoiled  ; attempting  t: 
wheel  and  charge  the  swamp,  they  received  a second ; and 
closely  wedged  as  their  men  were  upon  the  narrow  cause- 
way over  which  they  came,  every  shot  bore  its  warrant. 
There  was  no  retreating,  no  penetrating  the  ambush,  and 
the  British  cavalry  had  but  to  go  forward,  along  the  road 
to  the  ferry,  thus  passing  the  entire  line  of  the  ambuscade. 
The  corps  was  most  effectually  thinned  by  the  time  it  got 
beyond  rifle  reach ; and  still  more  fatal  would  have  been 
the  affray  to  the  advancing  infantry  of  Frazier — a large 
body,  with  a field-piece — but  for  one  of  those  lamentable 
deficiencies  of  materiel,  which  so  frequently  plucked  com- 
plete success  from  the  grasp  of  the  Americans.  The  am- 
munition of  our  partisan  failed  him,  and  he  was  compelled 
to  yield  the  ground  to  the  enemy,  who  was  otherwise 
wholly  in  his  power.  The  British  loss  was  unknown 
Twenty-seven  dead  horses  were  counted  on  the  field  the 
day  after ; the  men  had  all  been  buried.  As  Marion’s  men 
fired  with  either  a ball  or  heavy  buck-shot,  and  as  note 
would  aim  at  horses,  the  loss  of  the  British  must  have  been 
very  gr<  at.  Nine  days  after,  at  the  battle  of  Eutaw,  they 
had  fe\*  cavalry  in  the  field. 


2C3 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


But,  though  the  victory  was  incomplete,  Marion  had 
attained  his  object.  He  had  rescued  Harden,  without  loss 
to  himself.  He  had  traversed  more  than  two  hundred 
miles  of  country,  through  a region  held  by  the  enemy  ; 
returned  by  the  same  route, — delivered  his  prisoners  to  the 
care  of  Maham, — returned  twenty  miles  below  the  Eu- 
taw,  in  order  to  watch  the  communication  between  that 
place  and  Fairlawn — then,  at  the  call  of  Greene,  made  a 
circuit  and  passed  the  British  army,  so  as  to  reach  a posi- 
tion on  the  south  side  of  the  Santee,  in  the  track  of  Greene’s 
advance  ; and  all  this  in  the  brief  compass  of  six  days. 
Yet,  of  these  movements,  which  merited  and  received  the 
particular  thanks  of  Congress,  we  are  without  any  data  in 
our  records.  The  complimentary  resolution  of  Congress 
fixes  the  battle  at  Parker’s  ferry  on  the  31st  August. 

Seventeen  miles  from  Eutaw  Springs,  at  Laurens’  planta- 
tion, Marion  effected  a junction  with  the  commander-in- 
chief. Greene  was  pressing  forward  to  a meeting  with 
Stewart.  Of  this  object  the  latter  seemed  to  have  been 
profoundly  ignorant  up  to  this  moment.  But  the  day  be- 
fore, be  knew  that  Marion  was  twenty  miles  below  him 
and  did  not  conjecture  that,  by  marching  the  whole  night 
he  had  thrown  himself  above  him  to  join  with  Greene 
Without  this  junction  he  had  no  apprehension  that  the 
latter,  with  an  inferior  force,  would  venture  an  attack  upon 
him,  in  the  strong  position  which  he  held.  On  the  after- 
noon of  the  7th  September,  the  army  reached  Burdell’s 
tavern  on  the  Congaree  road,  seven  miles  from  the  Eutaws. 
The  force  under  Greene  amounted  to  two  thousand  men, 
all  told.  That  under  General  Stewart  was  probably  about 
the  same  It  is  estimated  to  have  been  two  thousand  three 
hundred.  These  were  all  disciplined  troops,  and  a large 
proportion  of  the  old  regiments  consisted  of  native  marks- 
men from  the  ranks  of  the  loyalists.  In  cavalry,  Greene 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


26' 

nad  the  advantage,  but  a great  portion  of  his  men  were 
militia.  In  artillery  the  two  armies  were  equal.  The 
British  had  five  and  the  Americans  four  pieces. 

The  memorable  battle  of  the  Eutaw  Springs  was  fought 
on  the  8th  September.  At  four  o’clock  in  the  morning 
the  Americans  moved  from  their  bivouack  down  to  the 
attack.  The  day  was  fair,  but  intensely  hot ; but  the  com- 
batants at  the  commencement  of  the  battle  were  relieved 
by  the  shade  of  the  wrocds.  The  South  Carolina  State 
troops  and  Lee’s  legion  formed  the  advance  under  Colonel 
Henderson.  The  militia,  both  of  South  and  North  Caro- 
lina, moved  next,  under  Marion.  Then  followed  the  regu- 
lars under  Gen.  Sumner : and  the  rear  was  closed  by  Wash- 
ington’s cavalry,  and  Kirkwood’s  Delawares,  under  Col. 
Washington.  The  artillery  moved  between  the  columns. 
The  troops  were  thus  arranged  in  reference  to  their  order 
of  battle. 

Of  the  approach  of  the  Americans  Stewart  was  wholly 
ignorant  on  the  evening  of  the  7th.  The  only  patrol  which 
had  been  sent  up  the  Congaree  road  had  been  captured 
during  the  night,  and  Stewart  himself  says,  in  excuse,  that 
“ the  Americans  had  waylaid  the  swamps  and  passes  in 
such  a manner  as  to  cut  off  every  avenue  of  intelligence.” 
So  entirely  secure  had  he  felt  himself  in  his  position, 
which  was  a strong  one,  that  he  had  sent  out  an  unarmed 
party  of  one  hundred  men,  in  the  very  direction  of  Greene’s 
advance,  to  gather  sweet  potatoes.  This  party,  called  a 
rooting  party,  after  advancing  about  three  miles,  had  pur- 
sued a road  to  the  right,  which  led  to  the  river  plantations. 
Advised,  by  two  deserters  from  the  North  Carolina  militia, 
of  Greene’s  approach,  Stewart  dispatched  Captain  Coffin, 
with  his  cavalry,  to  recall  the  rooting  party,  and  to  recon- 
noitre the  Americans.  Before  Coffin  could  effect  either 
object,  he  encountered  the  American  advance,  and,  in  total 


270 


LIFE  or  MARION. 


ignorance  of  its  strength,  charged  it  with  a degree  , f con- 
fidence,  which  led  Greene  to  imagine  that  Stewart  with 
his  whole  army  was  at  hand.  Cotlin  was  easily  repulsed  ; 
the  rooting  party,  alarmed  by  the  firing,  hurried  from  the 
woods,  and  were  all  made  prisoners.  Meanwhile,  Stewart, 
now  thoroughly  aware  of  the  proximity  of  his  enemy 
pushed  forward  a detachment  of  infantry,  a mile  distant 
from  the  Eutaw,  with  orders  to  engage  and  detain  the 
American  troops  while  he  formed  his  men  and  prepared 
for  battle  But  Greene,  whom  the  audacity  of  Cotfin  had 
deceived,  halted  his  colum  ns  where  they  stood,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  display  them.  The  column  of  militia  formed 
the  first  line  ; the  South  Carolina  militia  in  equal  divisions 
on  the  right  and  left,  and  the  North  Carolinians  in  the  centre. 
General  Marion  commanded  the  right,  General  Pickens 
rne  left,  and  Col.  Malmedy  the  cer+re.  Col.  Henderson, 
with  the  State  troops,  including  Sumter’s  brigade,  covered 
the  left  of  this  line,  and  Col.  Lee,  with  his  legion,  the 
right.  The  column  of  regulars  also  displayed  in  one  line 
The  North  Carolinians,  under  Gen.  Sumner,  occupied  the 
right;  the  Marylanders,  under  Col.  Williams,  the  left; 
the  Virginians,  under  Col.  Campbell,  the  centre.  Two 
pieces  of  artillery  were  assigned  to  each  line.  Col.  Wash- 
ington moved  in  column  in  the  rear,  keeping  himself  in 
reserve.  In  this  order,  the  troops  pressed  forward  slowly, 
as  the  country  on  both  sides  of  the  road  was  in  wood,  and 
prevented  much  expedition.  Moving  thus,  the  first  line 
encountered  the  advance  parties  of  Stewart,  and  drove  them 
before  it,  until  the  entire  line  of  the  British  army,  displayed 
in  order  of  battle,  received,  and  gave  shelter  to,  the  fugi- 
tives. 

The  troops  of  Stewart  were  drawn  up  in  one  line  at 
about  two  hundred  yards  west  of  the  Eutaw  Springs  ; the 
Buffs  oc  the  right,  Cruger’s  corps  in  the  centre,  and  the 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


271 


63d  and  64th  on  the  left.  Major  Marjori Banks,  with  three 
hundred  of  his  best  troops,  was  strongly  posted,  so  as  to 
flank  the  Buffs,  under  shelter  of  a thick  wood  on  the  Eutaw 
Creek,  which  covered  the  right  of  the  whole  line  ; the 
left  was,  in  military  parlance,  ‘ in  air’ — resting  in  the  wood, 
and  supported  by  Coffin’s  cavalry — reduced  to  a very  small 
number — and  a respectable  detachment  of  infantry.  His 
ground  was  altogether  in  wood,  but,  at  a small  distance,  in 
the  rear  of  his  line,  was  an  open  field,  on  the  edge  of  which 
stood  a strong  brick  dwelling,  with  offices,  out-houses,  and 
a palisadoed  garden,  in  all  of  which  a stout  resistance  might 
be  made.  On  this  brick  house,  Stewart  had  already  cast 
his  eyes,  as  the  means  of  saving  his  army  in  any  extreme 
necessity.  The  house  was  of  two  stories,  and  abundantly 
strong  to  resist  small  arms.  Its  windows  commanded  all 
the  open  space  around.  Major  Sheridan  was  ordered  to 
throw  himself  into  it,  with  his  command,  in  case  of  an  un- 
favorable issue  to  the  fight ; and  in  this  position  to  overawe 
the  Americans,  and  cover  the  army.  Feeble  in  cavalry, 
in  which  the  Americans  were  strong,  there  was  no  other 
means  for  retreat  and  support  in  the  event  of  a capital  mis- 
fortune. 

The  American  approach  was  from  the  west.  The  first 
line,  consisting  wholly  of  militia,  went  into  action,  and 
continued  in  it  with  a coolness  and  stubbornness  which, 
says  Greene,  “ would  have  graced  the  veterans  of  the  great 
king  of  Prussia.”  Such  conduct  was  almost  invariable  on 
their  part,  wherever  Marion  or  Pickens  commanded. 
Steadily  and  without  faltering,  they  advanced  into  the  hot- 
test of  the  enemy’s  fire,  with  shouts  and  exhortations, 
which  were  not  lessened  by  the  continual  fall  of  their  com- 
rades around  them.  Their  line  was  all  the  while  receiv- 
ing the  fire  of  double  their  number — they  were  opposed  to 
the  entire  line  of  the  British.  The  carnage  was  severe. 


112 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


and  very  equal  on  both  sides  The  two  pieces  of  artillery 
were  at  length  disabled,  and  after  exchanging  seventeen 
rounds  with  the  enemy,  the  militia  began  to  falter.  Gen 
Sumner  was  ordered  up  to  their  support,  with  the  North 
Carolina  Continentals.  With  the  advance  of  Sumner, 
Stewart  brought  into  line  on  his  left,  the  infantry  of  his 
reserve^  and  the  battle,  between  fresh  troops  on  both  sides, 
raged  with  renewed  fury.  From  the  commencement  of  the 
action,  the  infantry  of  the  American  covering  parties,  right  and 
left,  had  been  steadily  engaged.  The  State  troops,  under 
Henderson,  had  suffered  greatly.  The  American  left,  which 
they  flanked,  falling  far  short  of  the  British  right  in  length, 
they  were  exposed  to  the  oblique  fire  of  a large  proportion 
of  the  British  left,  and  particularly  of  the  battalion  com- 
manded by  Marjoribanks.  Henderson  himself  was  disa- 
bled, and  his  men,  denied  to  charge  the  enemy  under 
whose  fire  they  were  suffering — for  they  were  necessary 
to  the  safety  of  the  artillery  and  militia — were  subjected  to 
a trial  of  their  constancy,  which  very  few  soldiers,  what- 
ever may  have  been  their  training,  would  have  borne  so 
well. 

Meanwhile,  the  brigade  of  Sumner  recoiled  from  the 
fire  of  the  greater  numbers  opposed  to  them  in  front.  At 
this  sight,  the  exultation  of  the  British  Left  hurried  them 
forward,  assured  of  certain  victory.  Their  line  became 
deranged,  and  the  American  general,  promptly  availing 
himself  of  the  opportunity,  issued  his  command  to  Col. 
Williams,  who  had  in  charge  the  remaining  portion  of  his 
second  line,  to  u advance,  and  sweep  the  field  with  his 
bayonets.”  The  two  battalions  obeyed  the  order  with  a 
shout.  The  Virginians,  when  within  forty  yards  of  the 
enemy,  poured  in  a destructive  fire,  and  the  whole  second 
line  with  trailed  arms  pressed  on  to  the  charge.  The  ad- 
vanced left  of  the  British  recoiled,  and,  just  at  this  junii» 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


273 


ture,  the  legion  infantry  delivered  an  enfilading  fire,  which 
threw  them  into  irretrievable  disorder.  The  British  cen- 
tre, pressed  upon  by  the  fugitives,  began  to  give  way  from 
left  to  right,  and  the  fire  of  the  Marylanders,  poured  in  at 
the  proper  moment,  completed  their  disaster.  Their 
whole  front  yielded,  and  the  shouts  of  the  Americans  de- 
clared their  exultation,  as  at  a victory  already  won.  Un- 
questionably, the  day  was  theirs.  The  enemy  had  fled 
from  the  battle.  But  a new  one  was  to  begin,  in  which 
victory,  at  present  so  secure,  was  taken  from  their  grasp. 
In  the  effort  to  prevent  the  enemy  from  rallying,  and  to 
cut  him  off  from  the  brick  dwelling,  into  which  Sheridan, 
obeying  the  commands  of  Stewart,  had  thrown  himself  as 
soon  as  the  necessity  became  apparent,  the  greatest  loss  of 
the  Americans  w'as  sustained.  Marjoribanks  still  held  his 
ground,  with  his  entire  battalion,  in  the  thick  woods  which 
skirted  Eutaw  Creek,  and  so  well  covered  was  he  that, 
in  an  attempt  to  penetrate  with  his  cavalry,  Col.  Washing- 
ton became  entangled  in  the  thicket,  and  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy,  while  his  men  suffered  severely  from  their 
fire,  and  his  troop  was  routed.  A second  time  were  they 
brought  to  the  charge,  but  with  no  better  success  than 
before.  Marjoribanks  still  maintained  his  position,  watch- 
ing the  moment  when  to  emerge  from  the  thicket  with  the 
best  prospect  of  safety  to  himself,  and  hurt  to  the  Ameri- 
cans. He  was  soon  to  have  an  opportunity. 

The  British  line  had  yielded  and  broken  before  the 
American  bayonet.  The  latter  pressed  closely  upon  theii 
heels,  made  many  prisoners,  and  might  have  cut  them  off, 
and,  by  isolating  Marjoribanks,  forced  him  to  surrender, 
but  for  one  of  those  occurrences  which  so  frequently  in 
battle  change  the  fortunes  of  the  day.  The  course  of  the 
fugitives  led  them  directly  through  the  British  encamp- 
ment. There  everything  was  given  up  for  lost.  The 
12* 


274 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


tents  were  all  standing,  the  commissaries  had  abandoned 
their  stores,  and  the  numerous  retainers  of  the  army  were 
already  in  full  flight  for  Charleston.  When  the  pursuing 
Americans  penetrated  the  encampment,  they  lost  sight  of 
the  fugitives  in  the  contemplation  of  various  objects  of 
temptation  which,  to  a half-naked  and  half-starved  soldiery, 
were  irresistible.  The  pursuit  was  forborne  ; the  Ame- 
ricans fastened  upon  the  liquors  and  refreshments  scattered 
among  the  tents  : and  the  whole  army,  with  the  exception 
of  one  or  two  corps,  then  fell  into  confusion.  Yet,  so 
closely  had  the  British  been  pursued  to  the  shelter  of  the 
house,  and  so  narrow  was  their  escape,  that  some  of  the 
Americans  had  nearly  obtained  entrance  with  them.  It 
was  only  by  shutting  the  door  against  some  of  their  own 
officers,  that  they  made  it  secure  against  the  enemy ; and 
in  retiring  from  the  house,  now  a citadel,  the  Americans 
only  found  safety  by  interposing  the  bodies  of  the  officers, 
thus  made  captive  at  the  entrance,  between  themselves 
and  the  fire  from  the  windows.  One  ludicrous  incident 
is  told  of  Major  Barry,  who  was  taken  in  this  manner,  and 
made  use  of  as  a shield  by  Lieut.  Manning,  as  he  retreated 
from  before  the  house,  which  otherwise  he  could  not  have 
left  in  safety.  Without  struggling  or  making  the  slightest 
effort  for  his  extrication,  Barry  only  enumerated  his  own 
titles  with  a profound  solemnity.  “ Sir,  I am  Henry  Barry, 
Deputy  Adjutant  General  of  the  British  army,  Secretary  to 
the  Commandant  of  Charleston,  Captain  in  the  52d  regi- 
ment,” &c.  “ Enough,  enough,  sir,”  answered  Manning. 

“ You  are  just  the  man  I was  looking  for.  Fear  nothing  : 
you  shall  screen  me  from  danger,  and  I shall  take  special 
care  of  you.”  Manning  escaped  in  safety  with  his  prisoner. 
But  there  were  many  brave  officers  far  less  fortunate. 
Many  were  destined  to  perish  in  the  miserable  after 
struggle,  who  had  gone  gloriously  through  the  greatei 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


275 


dangers  of  the  fight.  The  British  tents  had  done  what  the 
British  arms  had  failed  to  do.  Victory  was  lost  .to  the 
Americans.  Scattered  throughout  the  encampment,  the 
soldiers  became  utterly  unmanageable.  The  enemy,  mean- 
while, had  partially  recovered  from  their  panic.  The  party 
of  Sheridan  were  in  possession  of  the  house.  Another 
party  held  possession  of  the  palisaded  garden.  Coffin  was 
active  with  his  remnant  of  cavalry,  and  Marjoribanks  still 
held  a formidable  position  in  the  thicket  on  Eutaw  Creek. 
From  the  upper  windows  of  the  house,  the  musketiy  of 
Sheridan  traversed  the  encampment,  which  the  Americans 
now  trembled  to  leave,  lest  they  should  suffer  from  their 
fire.  Every  head  that  emerged  from  a tent  was  a mark  for 
their  bullets.  Aware,  by  this  time,  of  the  extent  of  his 
'misfortune,  Greene  ordered  a retreat,  which  Hampton’s 
cavalry  was  commanded  to  cover.  In  the  execution  of 
this  duty  Hampton  encountered  the  British  cavalry.  A 
sharp  action  ensued ; the  latter  fled,  and  in  the  ardor  of 
pursuit,  the  American  horse  approached  so  near  to  the 
position  of  Marjoribanks  as  to  receive  a murderous  fire, 
which  prostrated  one-third  of  their  number  and  scattered 
the  rest.  Before  they  could  again  be  brought  together, 
Marjoribanks,  seizing  upon  the  chance  afforded  by  a tem- 
porary clearing  of  the  field,  emerged  from  the  wood,  at  a 
moment  which  enabled  him  to  put  a successful  finish  to 
the  labors  of  the  day.  Two  six-pounders,  which  had  been 
abandoned  by  the  British,  had  been  turned  upon  the  house 
by  the  Americans  ; but  in  their  eagerness  they  had  brought 
the  pieces  within  the  range  of  fire  from  the  windows  of  the 
house.  The  artillerists  had  been  shot  down  ; and,  in  the 
absence  of  the  American  cavalry,  Marjoribanks  was  en- 
abled to  recover  them.  Wheeling  them  under  the  walls 
of  the  house,  he  took  a contiguous  position,  his  own  being 
almost  the  only  portion  of  the  British  army  still  in  a condi- 
tion to  renew  the  action.  The  Americans  yielded  the 


276 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


ground  about  the  house,  but  were  promptly  rallied  in  the 
skirts  of  the  wood.  The  British  were  too  much  crippled  to 
pursue  ; and  the  respite  was  gladly  seized  upon  by  the 
Americans  to  plunge  headlong  into  the  neighboring  ponds, 
to  cool  the  heat  and  satisfy  the  intense  thirst  occasioned  by 
such  efforts  under  the  burning  sun  of  a Carolina  September. 
Both  sides  claimed  the  victory,  and  with  equal  reason.  In 
the  first  part  of  the  day  it  was  clearly  with  the  Americans 
They  had  driven  the  enemy  from  the  field,  in  panic  and 
with  great  loss.  They  were  in  possession  of  five  hundred 
prisoners,  nearly  all  of  whom  they  retained.  They  had 
takeu  two  out  of  the  five  pieces  of  artillery  which  the  Bri- 
tish had  brought  into  the  action;  and,  something  more  to 
boast, considering  the  proverbial  renown  of  the  British  with 
this  weapon,  it  was  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet  that  they 
had  swept  the  enemy  from  the  ground.  The  British  took 
shelter  in  a fortress  from  which  the  Americans  were  re- 
pulsed. It  is  of  no  consequence  to  assert  that  the  latter 
might  have  taken  it.  They  might — it  was  in  their  powei 
to  have  done  so, — but  they  did  not ; and  the  promptitude 
with  which  the  British  availed  themselves  of  this  securi- 
ty, entitles  them  to  the  merit  which  they  claim.  We  are 
constrained  to  think  that  the  business  of  the  field  was 
strangely  blundered  by  the  Americans  in  the  sequel.  This 
may  have  arisen  from  the  carnage  made  at  this  period 
among  their  officers,  particu’arly  in  their  persevering,  but 
futile  endeavors,  to  extricate  the  soldiers  from  their  tents. 
Under  cover  of  a contiguous  barn,  the  artillery  presented 
the  means  of  forcing  the  building  and  reducing  the  garrison 
to  submission.  The  attempts  made  at  this  object,  by  this 
arm  of  the  Americans,  were  rash,  badly  counselled,  and 
exposed  to  danger  without  adequate  protection.  The  Bri- 
tish were  saved  by  this  error,  by  the  luxuries  contained 
within  their  tents,  by  the  spirited  behavior  of  Coffin,  and 
the  cool  and  steady  valor  of  Marjoribanks. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Retreat  of  the  British  from  E lit  aw. — Pursuit  of  them  by  Manor 
and  Lee. — Close  of  the  year. 

That  the  results  of  victory  lay  with  the  Americans,  was 
shown  by  the  events  of  the  ensuing  day.  Leaving  his 
dead  unburied,  seventy  of  his  wounded  to  the  enemy, 
breaking  up  a thousand  stand  of  arms,  and  destroying  his 
stores,  General  Stewart  commenced  a precipitate  retreat 
towards  Fairlawn.  The  British  power  in  Carolina  was 
completely  prostrated  by  this  battle.  Five  hundred  pri- 
soners fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Americans,  and  it  was 
Greene’s  purpose  to  have  renewed  the  fight  on  the  next  day  ; 
but  the  flight  of  Stewart  anticipated  and  baffled  his  inten- 
tions. He  commenced  pursuit,  and  detached  Marion  and 
Lee,  by  a circuitous  route,  to  gain  the  enemy’s  front,  and 
interpose  themselves  between  him  and  the  post  at  Fair- 
lawn,  from  which  Major  M‘ Arthur  had  been  summoned 
with  five  hundred  men,  to  cover  the  retreat.  But  this 
plan  was  unsuccessful.  So  precipitate  was  the  marcl 
of  Stewart,  and  so  happily  concerted  the  movements  of  the 
two  British  officers,  that  they  effected  a junction  before 
Marion  and  Lee  could  reach  Ferguson’s  Swamp,  their 
place  of  destination.  The  cavalry  of  the  enemy’s  rear- 
guard fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Americans,  but  Stewart 
was  beyond  pursuit.  In  this  flight,  amongst  others,  the 
British  lost  the  brave  Major  Marjoribanks,  who  died  of  a 
fever,  and  was  buried  on  the  road.  While  they  admitted 


•278 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


a loss,  in  killed,  wounded,  and  missing,  of  half  the  number 
brought  into  the  field,  that  of  the  Americans  was  nearly 
equally  severe,  anc  fell  with  particular  severity  upon  the 
ollicers.  Sixty-one  of  these  were  killed  or  wounded ; 
twenty-one  died  upon  the  field.  The  returns  exhibit  a 
loss  of  one  hundred  and  fourteen  rank  and  file  killed,  three 
hundred  wounded,  and  forty  missing — an  aggregate  ex- 
ceeding a fourth  of  all  who  marched  into  battle.  Many  of 
Marion’s  men  were  killed,  though  not  so  many  as  he  lost 
in  the  affair  of  Quinby.  Among  his  officers,  Capt.  John 
Simons,  of  Pedee,  was  slain,  and  Col.  Hugh  Horry 
wounded. 

Greene  retired  to  the  high  hills  of  Santee,  while  Marion 
proceeded  to  encamp  at  Payne’s  plantation,  on  Santee 
river  swamp.  This  was  one  of  his  favorite  places  of  re- 
treat. Here,  in  the  depths  of  a cane-brake,  within  a quar- 
ter of  a mile  from  the  Santee,  he  made  himself  a clearing, 
“ much,”  says  Judge  James,  “ to  his  liking,”  and,  with  the 
canes,  thatched  the  rude  huts  of  his  men.  The  high  land 
was  skirted  by  lakes,  which  rendered  the  approach  diffi- 
cult; and  here,  as  in  perfect  security,  he  found  forage  for 
his  horses,  and  provisions  in  abundance  for  his  men.  Such 
a place  of  encampment,  at  such  a season,  would  hardly 
commend  itself  now  to  the  citizen  of  Carolina.  The 
modes  and  objects  of  culture,  and  probably  the  climate, 
have  undergone  a change.  The  time  was  autumn,  the 
most  sickly  period  of  our  year  ; and, to  sleep  in  such  a re- 
gion now,  even  for  a single  night,  would  be  considered 
certain  death  to  the  white  man.  It  does  not  seem,  at  that 
period,  that  much  apprehension  of  malaria  was  felt. 

But  Marion  did  not  linger  long  in  any  one  situation. 
Hearing  that  the  British  were  about  to  send  their  wound- 
ed from  Fairlawn  to  Charleston,  his  restless  enterprise 
prompted  him  to  aim  at  the  cap!  ire  of  the  detachment. 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


279 


Moving  rapidly  by  night,  he  threw  himself  below  the  form- 
er place,  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river,  and  would 
certainly  have  intercepted  them,  but  fo"  a slave  of  one  of 
the  plantations,  who,  hastening  to  he  British  camp, 
reported  his  proximity.  The  arrival  of  a superior  force 
compelled  him  to  steal  away  with  a caution  like  that  which 
marked  his  approach. 

The  command  of  the  British  army,  in  consequence  of  a 
wound  received  by  General  Stewart  at  Eutaw,  had  de- 
volved on  Major  Doyle.  This  army,  recruited  by  the  force 
of  M‘ Arthur,  was  still,  after  all  its  losses,  fully  two  thousand 
men.  That  of  Greene,  reduced  by  wounds  and  sickness, 
could  not  muster  one  thousand  fit  for  duty.  His  cavalry 
had  been  greatly  thinned  by  the  late  battle,  and  it  was  not 
until  the  cavalry  of  Sumter’s  brigade  could  be  brought 
together,  with  Marion’s  mounted  infantry,  and  the  horse  of 
Horry  and  Maham,  that  the  superiority  of  the  American 
general  could  be  restored.  Doyle  had  taken  post  at 
Fludd’s  plantation,  three  miles  above  Nelson’s  Ferry,  on 
the  Santee,  with  the  main  body  of  the  British  ; M‘ Arthur 
held  the  post  at  Fairlawn,  with  a detachment  of  three 
hundred.  Doyle,  with  some  instinctive  notion  that  his 
time  was  short,  busied  himself  in  a career  of  plunder  which 
threatened  to  strip  the  plantations  south  of  the  Santee  and 
Congaree,  and  westward  to  the  Edisto,  not  only  of  every 
negro  which  they  contained,  but  of  all  other  kinds  of  pro- 
perty. Over  this  region,  the  feebleness  of  the  American 
forces,  and  their  present  deficiency  in  cavalry,  gave  him  almost 
entire  control.  The  opposite  banks  were  guarded  by  Ma- 
rion and  Hampton,  who  afforded  protection  tc  everything 
that  could  be  moved  across,  and  presented  themselves  at 
every  point  to  the  enemy,  whenever  he  attempted  the  pas- 
sage of  the  river.  Marion  was  at  this  time  an  invalid,  but, 
however  much  he  might  need,  he  asked  for  no  repose  or 


2S0 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


exemption  from  service  when  the  enemy  was  in  the  field. 
His  force  was  also  reduced  by  sickness.  Col.  Mayham 
alone  had  no  less  than  one  hundred  men  unfit  for  duty. 
Other  circumstances  kept  the  militia  from  coming  to  the 
summons  of  Marion.  Those  on  the  borders  of  North  Caro- 
lina were  detained  to  meet  and  suppress  a rising  of  the 
loyalists  of  that  State  under  Hector  M‘Neil,  and  even  those 
in  his  camp  were  unprovided  with  ammunition.  Early  in 
October,  we  find  him  writing  pressingly  to  General  Greene 
and  Governor  Rutledge  for  a supply.  Rutledge  answers, 
on  the  10th  of  that  month,  “ I wish  to  God  it  was  in  my 
power  to  send  you  ammunition  instantly,  but  it  is  not.” 
Col.  Otho  Williams,  in  the  temporary  absence  of  Greene, 
writes,  in  answer  : “ Our  stock  of  ammunition  is  quite  ex- 
hausted— we  have  not  an  ounce  of  powder,  or  a cartridge, 
in  store.”  And  yet,  it  was  under  similar  deficiencies  that 
the  men  of  Marion  had  labored  from  the  beginning  ; and 
half  the  time  had  they  gone  into  battle  with  less  than 
three  rounds  of  powder  to  a man.  Williams  further  writes : 
H His  Excellency,  Governor  Rutledge,  has  intimated  that 
you  meditate  an  expedition  over  the  Santee.  In  making 
your  determination,  if  it  is  not  settled,  permit  me  to  recom- 
mend to  your  consideration,  that  the  General  depends  upon 
you  entirely  for  intelligence  of  the  enemy'' s motions.’’’’  The 
activity  of  our  partisan,  his  elasticity  of  character,  his  inde- 
pendence of  resources,  and  usefulness  to  others,  are  all  to 
be  gathered  from  these  two  extracts. 

Late  in  September  of  this  year,  Governor  Rutledge 
issued  a proclamation,  requiring  that  the  disaffected  should 
come  in  within  thirty  days,  and  perform  a six  months  tour 
of  duty.  The  condition  of  pardon  for  all  previous  offences 
was  attached  to  this  requisition.  The  idea  of  this  procla- 
mation was  borrowed  from  similar  ones  of  the  British  gene- 
rals, when  they  first  overran  the  country.  The  object  was 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


281 


to  secure  those  persons,  of  whom  there  were  numbers, 
who,  in  the  declining  fortunes  of  the  British,  were  not  un- 
willing to  turn  upon  and  rend  their  old  friends,  no  longer 
capable  of  protecting  or  providing  for  them.  The  measure 
was  of  doubtful  policy,  since  it  appealed  to  the  basest  feel- 
ings of  humanity.  Its  effects  were  considerable,  however  ; 
numbers  presented  themselves  in  the  ranks  of  Marion, 
showing  finely  in  contrast  with  his  ancient  and  half-naked 
veterans.  “ Their  new  white  feathers,”  says  James, 
“ fine  coats,  new  saddles  and  bridles,  and  famished  horses, 
showed  that  they  had  lately  been  in  the  British  garrison.” 
Their  appearance,  not  to  speak  of  their  previous  career, 
naturally  inspired  distrust  in  the  minds  of  those  whose  scars 
and  nakedness  were  the  proofs  of  their  virtue ; and  ano- 
ther measure,  which  was  adopted  about  this  time,  had 
the  further  effect  of  impairing  the  value  of  that  efficient 
brigade  upon  which  Marion  had  been  accustomed  to 
rely.  In  order  to  promote  the  growth  of  the  new  regi- 
ments, it  was  permitted  to  all  such  persons  as  could  hire 
a substitute,  to  claim  exemption  from  military  duty 
This  was  a temptation  too  great  to  be  resisted  by  those 
old  soldiers  who  had  served  from  the  first,  who  had  left 
their  families  in  wretched  lodgings,  in  poverty  and  distress, 
and  from  whose  immediate  neighborhood  the  presence  of 
the  war  was  withdrawn.  The  six  months  men  were 
easily  bought  up  to  fill  their  places.  The  result  was 
very  injurious  to  the  morale  of  the  brigade,  and  the  evil 
effects  of  the  measure  were  soon  felt  in  the  imperfect 
subordination,  the  deficient  firmness,  and  the  unprincipled 
character  of  the  new  recruits.  It  was  productive  also 
of  differences  between  two  of  Marion’s  best  officers. 
Horry  and  Maham,  which  wrought  evil  consequences 
to  the  country.  Being  commissioned  on  the  same  days  as 
colonels  of  the  new  regiments,  they  quarrelled  about  pre- 


2S2 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


cedency.  The  fruits  of  this  difference  will  be  seen  here 
after. 

As  the  winter  set  in,  the  army  began  to  recruit,  and 
the  militia  to  embody  under  their  several  commanders. 
Greene  was  joined  by  Cols.  Shelby  and  Sevier,  with  five 
hundred  mountaineers,  and  these,  with  Horry  and  May- 
ham,  were  ordered  to  place  themselves  under  Marion,  to 
operate  in  the  country  between  the  Santee  and  Charleston 
Sumter,  at  the  same  time,  with  a brigade  of  State  troops 
and  some  companies  of  militia,  was  ordered  to  take  post  at 
Orangeburg,  to  cover  the  country  from  the  inroads  of  the 
loyalists  from  Charleston.  Pickens,  in  the  meantime,  with 
his  regiments,  traversed  the  border  country,  keeping  in  awe 
the  Indians,  and  suppressing  the  predatory  movements 
of  the  Tories.  About  the  1st  November,  the  separate 
commands  of  Marion  and  Sumter  crossed  the  rivers,  and 
advanced  in  the  direction  of  the  enemy.  The  latter 
soon  fell  in  with  Cunningham’s  loyalists  in  force,  and  found 
it  prudent  to  fall  back.  But  he  kept  Cunningham  in  check 
with  a body  of  men  fully  equal  to  his  own.  Marion,  also, 
was  compelled  to  come  to  a halt,  by  encountering  General 
Stewart,  posted  at  Wantoot,  with  nearly  two  thousand 
men.  Stewart  was  at  this  time  following  up  the  peculiar 
labors  which  had  been  undertaken  by  Major  Doyle  when 
in  temporary  charge  of  the  army.  He  was  collecting 
slaves  and  laying  in  provisions,  preparing  for  siege  in,  and 
subsequent  flight  from,  Charleston.  The  fall  of  Corn- 
wallis, at  Yorktown,  was  known  in  the  American  camp 
on  the  9th  of  November.  It  had  been  anticipated  in  the 
British  some  time  before.  With  the  fate  of  that  com- 
mander, virtually  terminated  the  British  hope  of  re-con- 
quering the  country,  and  the  proceedings  of  their  officers  in 
the  south,  as  elsewhere,  looked  forward  to  the  approacn- 
ing  necessity  of  flight.  It  was  only  becoming  that  they 
should  spoil  the  Egyptians  previous  to  their  departure.  • 


1 I F E OF  MARION. 


2S3 


The  capture  of  Cornwallis  produced  a jubilee  in  the 
American  camp.  In  that  of  Marion  the  ladies  of  Santee 
were  permitted  to  partake.  He  gave  them  a fete — we  are 
not  told  what  were  the  refreshments — at  the  house  of  Mr. 
John  Cantey.  “ The  General,”  says  James,  “ was  not 
very  susceptible  of  the  gentler  emotions  ; he  had  his  friends, 
and  was  kind  to  his  inferiors,  but  his  mind  was  principally 
absorbed  by  the  love  of  country  and  the  Judge  rather 
insinuates  that  the  pleasure  he  felt  on  this  occasion  arose 
more  from  the  fall  of  Cornwallis  than  from  the  presence 
of  the  ladies. 

On  the  same  day,  the  9th  October,  he  received  the 
thanks  of  Congress  for  “ his  wise,  decided,  and  gallant 
conduct,  in  defending  the  liberties  of  his  country,  and  par- 
ticularly for  his  prudent  and  intrepid  attack  on  a body  of 
British  troops  on  the  31st  August  last;  and  for  the  distin- 
guished part  he  took  in  the  battle  of  the  8th  September.” 

On  the  ISth  November,  the  camp  of  the  Hills  was 
oroken  up,  and  General  Greene  advanced  writh  his  army 
to  the  Four  Holes,  on  the  Edisto,  in  full  confidence  that 
the  force  under  Marion  would  be  adequate  to  keep  Gene- 
ral Stewart  in  check.  But,  by  the  25th  of  the  same  month, 
our  partisan  was  abandoned  by  all  the  mountaineers  under 
Shelby  and  Sevier,  a force  of  five  hundred  men.  This  was 
after  a three  weeks’  service.  This  miserable  defection 
was  ascribed  to  the  withdrawal  of  Shelby  from  the  army  on 
leave  of  absence.  But,  in  all  probability,  it  was  due  to 
their  impatience  of  the  wary  sort  of  warfare  which  it  was 
found  necessary  to  pursue.  The  service  was  not  suffi- 
ciently active  for  their  habits.  Marion  had  been  warned 
that  he  must  keep  them  actively  employed,  but  all  his 
efforts  to  do  so  had  been  unsuccessful.  He  had  approached 
Stewart  at  Wantoot,  but,  though  the  force  of  the  latter 
was  nominally  far  superior  to  that  of  the  partisan,  he  could 


284 


LIFE  OF  MAEUN, 


not  be  drawn  out  of  his  encampment.  This  was  a subject 
of  equal  surprise  and  chagrin  to  Marion.  Subsequently, 
the  reason  of  this  timidity  on  the  part  of  the  British  gene- 
ral was  discovered.  A return,  found  on  an  orderly-ser- 
geant who  fell  into  Marion’s  hands,  showed  that,  out  of 
two  thousand  two  hundred  and  seventy-two  men,  Stewart 
had  nine  hundred  and  twenty-eight  on  the  sick  list.  The 
only  services  in  which  the  mountaineers  were  employed, 
while  with  Marion,  were  in  attacks  on  the  post  at  Fair- 
lawn,  and  the  redoubts  at  Wappetaw  ; and  these  required 
detachments  only.  The  movement  against  the  latter  was 
instantly  successful — the  enemy  abandoned  it  on  the  ap- 
proach of  the  Americans.  But  the  post  at  Fairlawn  was 
of  more  value,  in  better  condition  of  defence,  a convenient 
depot,  and,  being  in  the  rear  of  the  British  army,  then  sta- 
tioned at  Wantoot,  promised  a stout  resistance.  The  Ame- 
rican detachment  against  this  place  was  led  by  Maham. 
In  passing  the  post  at  Wantoot,  he  was  ordered  to  show 
himself,  and,  if  possible,  to  decoy  the  British  cavalry  into 
the  field.  The  manoeuvre  did  not  succeed,  but  it  brought 
out  a strong  detachment,  which  followed  close  upon  his 
heels,  and  required  that  what  he  should  undertake  should 
be  done  quickly.  On  approaching  Fairlawn,  he  found 
everything  prepared  for  defence.  He  lost  no  time  in  mak- 
ing his  advances.  A part  of  his  riflemen  were  dismounted, 
and,  acting  as  infantry,  approached  the  abbatis,  while  his 
cavalry  advanced  boldly  and  demanded  a surrender.  The 
place,  with  all  its  sick,  three  hundred  stand  of  arms,  and 
eighty  convalescents,  was  yielded  at  discretion. 

With  these  small  affairs  ended  the  service  of  the  moun- 
taineers in  Marion’s  army.  They  retired  to  their  native 
hills,  leaving  Marion  and  Greene  enmeshed  in  difficulties. 
It  was  on  the  strength  of  this  force,  chiefly,  that  the  lat- 
ter had  descended  from  the  hills,  and  he  was  now  unable 


LIFE  OF  S.  IRION. 


285 


to  recede.  Marion,  too,  relying  upon  their  support,  had 
crossed  the  Santee  and  placed  himself  in  close  proximity 
on  the  right  of  the  enemy.  But  the  feebleness  and  timid- 
ity of  Stewart,  and  his  ignorance  of  the  state  of  affairs  in 
Marion’s  camp,  saved  these  generals  from  the  necessity 
of  a retreat  which  would  have  been  equally  full  of  danger 
and  humiliation.  The  movement  of  Greene  across  the 
Congaree  induced  him  to  draw  towards  Charleston,  and 
Marion  was  left  in  safety.  The  timidity  shown  by  the 
enemy  encouraged  Greene,  and,  dispatching  a select  party 
of  horse  under  Wade  Hampton,  he  followed  hard  upon 
their  steps  with  as  many  chosen  infantry.  His  purpose 
was  the  surprise  of  Dorchester.  Stewart  was  descending 
to  the  city  by  another  route.  Hampton’s  advance  fell  in 
with  a reconnoitring  party  of  fifty  men,  and  suffered  few  to 
escape  ; and  though  Greene  did  not  succeed  in  surprising 
the  post  at  Dorchester,  his  approach  had  the  effect  of 
producing  its  abandonment.  During  the  night,  the  garrison 
destroyed  everything,  threw  Tieir  cannon  into  the  river, 
and  retreated  to  Charleston.  Greene  did  not  venture  to 
pursue,  as  the  enemy’s  infanny  exceeded  five  hundred 
men.  Meanwhile,  Stewart  had  hurried  on  by  Goose-creek 
Bridge,  and,  joining  the  fugitives  from  Dorchester,  halted 
at  the  Quarter  House,  and  prepared  to  encounter  the 
whole  army  of  Greene,  which,  in  their  panic,  was  sup- 
posed to  be  upon  their  heels.  Such  was  the  alarm  in 
Charleston  that  General  Leslie,  who  now  succeeded  Slew, 
art,  proceeded  to  embody  the  slaves,  in  arms,  for  the 
defence  of  that  place,- — a measure  which  was  soon  repented 
of,  and  almost  as  soon  abandoned. 

Greene  fell  back  upon  his  main  army,  which  had  now 
advanced  to  Saunders’  plantation  on  the  Round  O.,  while 
Marion,  pressing  nearer  to  Charleston,  kept  the  right  of  the 
enemy  in  check.  The  movements  of  our  partisan  were 
left  to  his  own  discretion.  Greene,  in  all  cases,  not  only 


2S6 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


suffers  the  judgment  of  the  former  to  determine  for  him- 
self his  course,  giving  him  a thoroughly  independent  com- 
mand, but  he  betrays  the  most  respectful  desire  on  fre- 
quent occasions  to  have  his  opinion.  Thus,  on  the  5th 
of  November,  he  writes  to  him  : — “ Gen.  Sumter  has 
orders  to  take  post  at  Orangeburgh,  to  prevent  the  Tories 
in  that  quarter  from  conveying  supplies  to  town,  and  his 
advanced  parties  will  penetrate  as  low  as  Dorchester  ; 
therefore,  you  may  act  in  conjunction  with  him,  or  employ 
your  troops  on  the  enemy’s  left,  as  you  may  find  from  in- 
formation they  can  be  best  employed.  Please  to  give  me 
your  opinion  on  which  side  they  can  be  most  useful.” 
On  the  15th  of  the  same  month,  he  writ  's  again  : “ You 
are  at  liberty  to  act  as  you  think  advisedly.  I have  no  par- 
ticular instructions  to  give  you,  and  only  wish  you  to  avoid 
surprise.”  The  latter  caution  to  a soldier  of  Marion’s 
character  and  prudence  was  scarcely  necessary,  but  he 
was  so  near  the  enemy,  and  the  latter  in  such  superior 
force,  that  the  suggestion,  on  the  part  of  Greene,  was  only 
natural.  Where  Greene  himself  lay,  two  rivers  ran  be- 
tween his  army  and  that  of  the  British.  Without  ammu 
nition  himself,  and  informed  of  reinforcements  which  the 
enemy  had  received,  to  preserve  a respectful  distance  be- 
tween them,  was,  on  the  part  of  the  American  commander, 
only  a becoming  caution.  It  was  now  December,  and  the 
troops,  both  of  Greene  and  Marion,  were  without  the 
necessary  clothing.  They  had  neither  cloaks  nor  blankets. 
On  the  14th  of  that  month,  Greene  received  a supply  of 
ammunition,  all  of  which  he  sent  to  Marion — no  small 
proof  of  the  confidence  which  he  felt  that,  in  such  hands,  it 
would  not  be  thrown  away. 

Thus  closed  the  campaign  of  1781.  By  manoeuvre,  and 
a successful  combination  of  events,  the  British  troops  bad 
been  driven  down  the  counfiy  and  restrained  within  the 
narrow  neck  of  land  contiguous  to  Charleston  The  em 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


287 


campment  of  the  main  army  continued  at  the  Round  O. 
Marion  was  at  Watboo  on  Cooper  river,  watching  the 
enemy’s  right ; Sumter  held  Orangeburg  and  the  bridge  at 
Four  Holes  ; Hampton  with  fifty  Stale  cavalry  kept  open 
the  communication  between  Marion  and  the  commander- 
in-chief  ; Cols.  Harden  and  Wilkinson  watched  the  enemy’s 
movements  on  the  south  between  Charleston  and  Savan- 
nah : and  Col.  Lee,  posted  in  advance,  with  a light  detach- 
ment, kept  him  from  prying  into  the  real  weakness  of  the 
American  army.  In  the  ignorance  of  the  British  general, 
lay  the  security  of  the  American  ; for,  at  this  particular 
time,  there  were  not  eight  hundred  men  at  Greene’s  head- 
quarters. A glance  at  any  map  of  South  Carolina  will 
show  the  judgment  with  which  these  several  posts  were 
taken,  at  once  for  easy  co-operation  of  the  Americans,  as 
for  the  control  of  all  the  country  above  the  positions  actu- 
ally held  by  the  British.  The  territory  of  the  State,  with 
the  exception  of  that  neck  of  land  which  lies  twelve  or 
fifteen  miles  up  from  Charleston,  between  the  approaching 
rivers  Ashley  and  Cooper,  had  all  been  recovered  from  the 
enemy.  But  the  necessities  of  the  Americans,  the  want 
of  military  materiel , the  thinness  of  the  regiments,  and  the 
increasing:  strength  of  the  British,  derived  from  foreign 
troops  and  accessions  from  other  posts  in  America,  left  it 
doubtful,  under  existing  circumstances,  whether  it  could  be 
long  retained.  But  this  misgiving  was  not  allowed  to  pre- 
judice or  impair  the  popular  hope,  resulting  from  the  ap- 
parent successes  of  their  arms  ; and  one  of  the  modes 
adopted  for  contributing  to  this  conviction  was  the  formal 
restoration  of  the  native  civil  authority.  The  members  of 
tne  State  Assembly,  of  whom  Marion  was  one,  were 
accordingly  required  by  the  proclamation  of  Governor  Rut- 
ledge— who  had  held  almost  dictatorial  powers  from  the 
beginning  of  the  war — to  convene  at  Jacksonborough  at  an 
early  day  of  the  ensuing  year. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Marion  summoned  to  the  camp  of  Greene. — Defeats  the  British 
horse  at  St.  Thomas. — Leaves  his  command  to  Horry,  and 
takes  his  seat  in  the  Assembly  at  Jacksonborough,  as  Senator 
from  St.  John’s,  Berkely. — Proceedings  of  the  Assembly. — 
Confiscation  Act. — Dispute  between  Cols.  Maham  and  Horry 
— The  brigade  of  Marion  surprised,  during  his  absence,  by  a 
detachment  from  Charleston. — Marion’s  encounter  with  the 
British  horse. — Conspiracy  in  the  camp  of  Greene 

While  the  army  of  Greene  lay  at  Round  O.,  considera- 
ble alarm  was  excited  in  the  American  camp  by  tidings  of 
large  reinforcements  made  to  the  British  strength  in 
Charleston.  General  Leslie  was  now  in  command  of  the 
latter.  The  contraction  of  the  American  military  cordon 
had  very  greatly  straitened  the  resources  and  comforts  of 
the  British  general.  The  numerous  refugees  who  had 
taken  shelter  in  the  city  with  their  families,  the  great  accu- 
mulation of  horses  within  the  lines,  and  the  vigilant  watch 
which  was  maintained  over  the  islands  and  the  neck  by  the 
American  light  detachments,  soon  contributed  to  lessen 
the  stock  of  provisions  in  the  capital,  and  to  cut  off  its 
supplies.  One  consequence  of  this  condition  was  to  com- 
pel Leslie  to  put  two  hundred  of  his  horses  to  death ; 
W'hile,  by  all  other  possible  means,  he  collected  his  provi- 
sions from  the  surrounding  country.  Considerable  parties 
were  kept  upon  the  alert  for  this  object,  and,  to  facilitate 
the  movements  of  these  parties,  strong  posts  were  estab- 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


289 


lished  at  Haddrel’s  Point  and  Hobcaw.  The  situation  of 
these  posts,  on  the  extremities  of  tongues  of  land,  to  which 
assistance  might  easily  he  conveyed  by  water,  and  from 
which  retreat,  to  an  attacking  enemy,  was  difficult,  ren- 
dered them  comparatively  safe,  for  the  present,  against 
the  Americans.  But  the  situation  of  Leslie  was  one  of 
uncomfortable  constraint,  and  it  was  natural  that  he  should 
avail  himself  of  any  prospect  which  might  promise  him 
relief  It  was  readily  believed,  therefore,  in  the  American 
camp,  that,  with  the  acquisition  of  new  strength,  by  the 
arrival  of  reinforcements  from  abroad,  Leslie  would  seek 
to  break  through  the  cordon  put  around  him.  The  rumor 
of  his  approach,  in  strength,  caused  Greene  to  issue  his 
orders  to  Marion  to  repair  to  head-quarters  with  all  the 
force  he  could  draw  after  him.  Our  partisan  promptly 
obeyed  the  summons ; but,  on  his  way  to  join  with 
Greene,-  he  left  a detachment  of  mounted  infantry  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Monk’s  Corner,  to  watch  the  motions  of 
the  enemy. 

But  Leslie’s  purpose  was  mistaken.  His  strength  had 
been  exaggerated.  He  had  no  designs  upon  the  camp  of 
Greene,  being  no  doubt  quite  as  ignorant  of  his  weakness 
as  the  latter  was  of  the  British  strength.  But  the  detach- 
ment left  by  Marion  near  Monk’s  Corner  caught  the  atten- 
tion of  the  enemy,  and,  in  the  absence  of  the  partisan,  it 
was  thought  accessible  to  a proper  attempt  from  Charles- 
ton. In  all  the  movements  of  the  British,  it  is  very  evi- 
dent that  they  attached  no  small  importance  to  the  presence 
of  this  chief.  A detachment  of  three  hundred  men,  cavalry 
and  infantry,  was  transported  by  water  to  the  north  bank 
of  the  Wando  river.  This  body  moved  with  equal  secresy 
and  celerity.  But  they  were  disappointed  in  their  aim 
Marion  had  returned  from  the  Continental  camp  to  his 
own.  The  storm  which  threatened  the  former  was  over 

13 


f 


290 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


blown,  and  he  was  in  season  to  avert  that  ly  which  the 
latter  was  threatened.  His  force  was  scarcely  equal  to 
that  of  the  enemy.  He  nevertheless  resolved  upon  attack- 
ing them.  In  order  to  keep  them  in  play,  while  he  ad- 
vanced with  his  main  body,  Cols.  Richardson  and  Scriven, 
with  a part  of  Maham’s  horse,  were  dispatched  with 
orders  to  throw  themselves  in  front  of  the  British,  and 
engage  them  until  he  could  come  up.  This  order  was 
gallantly  executed.  They  encountered  the  enemy’s  ad- 
vance near  the  muster-house  of  St.  Thomas,  charged  them 
vigorously,  and  succeeded  in  putting  them  to  flight,  with 
some  slaughter.  Capt.  Campbell,  of  the  British,  and 
several  others,  were  killed.  But  the  pursuit  was  urged 
too  far.  The  cavalry  of  Maham,  by  which  this  success 
had  been  obtained,  was  of  new  organization.  Their  train- 
ing had  been  partial  only.  It  was  seen  that,  though  they 
drove  the  British  horse  before  them,  their  own  charge  was 
marked  by  disorder.  Hurried  forward  by  success,  they 
rushed  into  the  jaws  of  danger,  and  were  only  brought  to 
their  senses  by  an  encounter  with  the  whole  of  the  British 
mfantry.  A volley  from  this  body  drove  them  back  in 
confusion,  while  the  cavalry,  which  had  been  flying  be- 
fore them,  encouraged  by  the  presence  of  the  infantry, 
rallied  upon  the  steps  of  the  pursuers,  and  drove  them  in 
turn.  They  suffered  severely,  wedged  upon  a narrow 
causeway,  which  gave  them  as  little  room  for  escape  as 
evolution.  Twenty-two  fell  upon  the  spot,  by  the  fire  of 
the  infan'  ry.  The  rest  were  rallied  when  sufficiently  fai 
from  tne  more  formidable  enemy,  and,  turning  upon  the 
Brihsh  cavalry,  once  more  put  them  to  flight.  But  the 
event  left  IVlarion  too  weak  to  press  the  encounter.  He 
contented  himself  with  watching  the  motions  c.f  the 
British,  and  they  were  sufficiently  respectful  not  to  press 
him  to  any  less  pacific  performance.  They  were  satis- 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


291 


fied  to  pursue  their  march,  and,  gathering  a ew  head 
of  cattle,  to  retire  to  Haddrell’s,  foregoing  the  more  im- 
portant object  of  their  incursion.  The  field  clear,  Marion 
left  his  brigade  in  charge  of  Horry,  and  repaired  to  Jack- 
sonborough,  to  attend  the  Assembly,  to  which  he  had 
been  elected  a member  from  St.  John,  Berkely,  the  same 
parish  which  he  represented  in  the  Provincial  Congress  at 
the  beginning  of  the  war.  This  was  early  in  the  year 
17S2.  The  Legislature  met  at  Jacksonborough,  a little 
village  on  the  Edisto  or  Pon-Pon  river,  on  the  18th  Janu- 
ary of  this  year.  This  position,  almost  within  striking 
distance  of  the  British  army  at  Charleston,  was  chosen 
with  particular  reference  to  the  moral  influence  which  the 
boldness  of  such  a choice  would  be  likely  to  have  upon 
the  people,  and  the  confidence  which  it  seemed  to  declare 
in  the  ability  of  the  American  army  to  render  the  place 
secure.  To  make  it  so,  Greene  moved  his  troops  across 
tne  Edisto,  and  took  post  at  Skirving’s  plantation,  six 
miles  in  advance  of  Jacksonborough,  and  on  the  road  which 
leads  to  Charleston.  There  was  yet  another  step  neces- 
sary to  this  object.  The  British,  in  addition  to  Charleston 
and  the  “ Neck,”  held  possession  of  two  islands,  James 
and  John,  which  belong  to  that  inner  chain  of  isles  wdtich 
stretches  along  the  coast  from  Charleston  to  Savannah, 
separated  from  the  main  by  creeks  and  marshes,  and 
from  one  another  by  the  estuaries  of  rivers,  sounds,  or 
inlets.  On  John’s  Island,  which  is  fertile,  extensive,  and 
secure,  the  enemy  held  a very  respectable  force  under 
Col.  Craig.  Jacksonborough  was  within  striking  distance 
of  this  force.  It  could  be  approached  by  boats  or  galleys, 
in  a single  tide.  It  was  equally  assailable  from  this  point 
by  land.  As  a matter  of  precaution,  it  was  considered 
necessary  to  disperse  this  force,  and  it  was  soon  ascer- 
tained, not  only  that  the  island  was  accessible,  but  that  the 


292 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


enemy,  relying  upon  the  protection  of  his  armed  galleys 
was  unapprehensive  of  attack.  The  attempt  was  entrusted 
to  Cols  Lee  and  Laurens,  who,  with  separate  parties, 
were  to  reach  the  point  of  destination  by  different  routes. 
9ne  of  the  parties  lost  the  road,  and  failed  to  co-operate 
vith  the  other.  The  movement  was  only  partially  suc- 
.essful.  A second  was  designed,  and  succeeded.  The 
galleys  were  driven  from  their  station  by  the  artillery,  and 
Laurens  penetrated  to  Craig’s  encampment.  But  the 
latter  had  already  abandoned  it.  A few  stragglers  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  Americans,  but  nothing  more.  The 
preceding  attempt  had  just  sufficed  to  convince  Craig  of 
the  insecurity  of  the  place,  and  be  had  taken  timely  pre- 
cautions against  suffering  from  a repetition  of  the  attempt. 

The  Legislature  assembled  according  to  appointment. 
The  proclamation  of  the  Governor,  to  whom,  from  the 
beginning  of  the  war,  had  been  accorded  almost  dictatorial 
powers,  precluded  from  election  and  suffrage  all  persons 
who  had  taken  British  protections  ; and,  as  those  who 
were  true  to  the  State  had  been  very  generally  active 
in  the  ranks  of  her  military,  it  followed,  as  a matter  of 
course,  that  a great  proportion  of  the  members  were  mili 
tary  men.  Among  these  were  Sumter  and  Marion.  The 
former,  about  this  time,  yielded  his  commission  to  the 
authorities,  on  account  of  some  slight  or  injustice  to  which 
he  had. been  subjected,  and  left  the  army  when  he  took 
his  seat  in  the  Assembly.  General  Henderson  succeeded 
to  his  command.  The  Jacksonborough  Assembly  was 
highly  distinguished,  as  well  for  its  talent  as  for  its 
worth  and  patriotism.  Its  character  was,  perhaps,  rather 
military  than  civil.  Constituting  as  they  did,  in  a slave 
community,  a sort  of  feudal  aristocracy,  and  accustomed, 
as,  for  so  long  a time  they  had  been,  to  the  use  of  the  wea- 
pons of  war,  its  members  wore  Lie  deportment  of  so  many 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


293 


armed  barons,  gathered  together  quite  as  much  ior  action 
as  resolve.  It  was  not  only  unavoidable,  but  highly  im- 
portant at  this  juncture,  that  such  should  be  the  character 
of  this  body.  Who  could  so  well  determine  what  were 
the  necessities  of  the  country — what  the  exigencies  of  the 
people — what  the  local  resources  and  remedies — as  those 
who  had  fought  its  battles,  traversed  every  acre  of  its  soil, 
and  represented  its  interests  and  maintained  its  rights  when 
there  was  no  civil  authority?  What  legislators  so  likely 
to  wield  the  popular  will,  as  men  who,  like  Marion  and 
Sumter,  had  become  its  rallying  leaders — whom  the  peo- 
ple had  been  accustomed  to  obey  and  follow,  and  by  whom 
they  had  been  protected.  It  was  equally  important  that 
the  legislation  should  come  from  such  sources,  when  we 
consider  the  effect  upon  the  enemy,  still  having  a foothold 
in  the  State.  They  might  reasonably  apprehend  that  the 
laws  springing  from  such  a body  would  be  marked  by  a 
stern  directness  and  decision  of  purpose  which  would  leave 
nothing  to  he  hoped  by  disaffection  or  hostility;  and  their 
proceedings  did  not  disappoint  the  expectations  of  friend 
or  foe. 

The  measures  of  this  Assembly  were  marked  by  equal 
prudence  and  resolve.  They  passed  a new  act  respecting  the 
militia,  and  one  for  raising  the  State  quota  of  Continental 
troops.  One  of  their  measures  has  been  questioned  as  un- 
wise and  impolitic — that,  namely,  for  amercing  and  confis- 
cating the  estates  of  certain  of  the  loyalists,  and  for  banish- 
ing the  most  obnoxious  among  them.  Something,  cer- 
tainly, is  to  be  said  in  favor  of  this  act.  If  vindictive,  it 
seems  to  have  been  necessary.  It  must  be  remembered 
that,  in  consequeu  -,e  of  a previous  proclamation  of  the 
Governor,  none  hue  the  most  implacable  and  virulent  of 
the  Tories  were  liable  to  its  operation — none  but  those  who 
had  rejected  very  liberal  offers  of  indulgence  and  concilia- 


294 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


tion.  This  proclamation  had  opened  the  door  to  recon- 
ciliation with  the  State,  on  very  easy  terms  to-  the  oflend- 
ers.  It  gave  them  timely  warning  to  come  in,  enrol  them- 
selves in  the  American  ranks,  and  thus  assure  themselves 
of  that  protection  and  safety  which  they  had  well  forfeited. 
Their  neglect  or  refusal  to  accept  this  proffer  of  mercy, 
properly  incurred  the  penalties  of  contumacy.  These 
penalties  could  be  no  other  than  confiscation  of  property 
and  banishment  of  person.  Reasons  of  policy,  if  not  of 
absolute  necessity,  seemed  to  enforce  these  penalties 
How  was  the  war  to  be  carried  on  ? Marion’s  men,  for 
example,  received  no  ^ay,  no  food,  no  clothing.  They 
had  borne  the  dangers  and  the  toils  of  war,  not  only  with- 
out pay,  but  without  the  hope  of  it.  They  had  done 
more — they  had  yielded  up  their  private  fortunes  to  the 
cause.  They  had  seen  their  plantations  stripped  by  the 
enemy,  of  negroes,  horses,  cattle,  provisions,  plate — every- 
thing, in  short,  which  could  tempt  the  appetite  of  cupidity  ; 
and  this,  too,  with  the  knowledge,  not  only  that  numerous 
loyalists  had  been  secured  in  their  own  possessions,  but 
had  been  rewarded  out  of  theirs.  The  proposed  measure 
seemed  but  a natural  and  necessary  compliance  with  popu- 
lar requisition.  Besides,  the  war  was  yet  to  be  carried  on. 
How  was  this  to  be  done  ? How  long  was  it  yet  to  last  ? 
What  was  to  be  its  limit  ? Who  could  predict  ? Con- 
gress was  without  money — the  State  without  means.  For 
a space  of  three  years,  South  Carolina  had  not  only  sup- 
ported the  war  within,  but  beyond  her  own  borders. 
Georgia  was  utterly  destitute,  and  was  indebted  to  South 
Carolina  for  eighteen  months  for  her  subsistence ; and  North 
Carolina,  in  the  portions  contiguous  to  South  Carolina, 
was  equally  poor  and  disaffected.  The  Whigs  were 
utterly  impoverished  by  their  own  wants  and  the  ravages 
of  the  enemy.  They  had  nothing  more  to  give.  Patriot- 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


295 


ism  could  now  bestow  little  but  its  blood.  It  was  with 
au  obvious  propriety  resolved,  by  the  Jacksonborough 
Assembly,  that  those  who  had  proved  false  to  the  country 
should  be  made  to  sutfer  in  like  degree  with  those  who 
had  been  true,  and  who  were  still  suffering  in  her  defence. 
As  a measure  of  prolonged  policy — contemplated  beyond 
the  emergency — there  may  be  objections  to  the  Confisca- 
tion Act ; but  the  necessities  of  the  time  seemed  to  de- 
mand it,  and  it  will  be  difficult  for  any  judgment,  having 
before  it  all  the  particulars  of  the  cruel  ci\  il  war  through 
which  the  country  had  gone — not  to  speak  of  the  army, 
and  the  present  and  pressing  necessity  for  maintaining  it — 
to  arrive  at  any  other  conclusion,  or  to  censure  the  brave 
men  who  urged  and  advocated  the  measure.  The  pro- 
ceeding seems  perfectly  defensible  .on  general  principles, 
though  in  particular  instances — as  in  the  application  of  all 
general  principles — it  may  have  been  productive  of  injury. 
The  estates  of  the  loyalists,  by  this  measure,  were  seized 
upon  as  a means  for  building  up  the  credit  of  the  State, 
supplying  it  with  the  necessary  funds  for  maintaining  order 
as  well  as  war,  and  for  requiting  and  supporting  that  army 
which  was  still  required  to  bleed  in  its  defence. 

What  part  was  taken  in  this  act  by  Marion,  is  not 
known.  Though  kind  and  indulgent  in  his  nature,  he  was 
stern  and  resolute  in  war.  We  have  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  he  ent  rtained  any  scruples  about  a proceeding,  the 
necessity  of  vhich,  at  the  time,  seems  to  have  been  beyond 
all  dispute. 

The  absence  of  our  partisan  from  his  brigade,  was 
almost  fatal  to  it.  He  left  it  with  reluctance,  and  only 
with  the  conviction  that  his  presence  in  the  Senate  was 
important  to  the  interests  equally  of  the  army  and  the 
country.  Indeed,  without  him  there  would  not  have  been 
a quorum.  There  were  only  thirteen  Senators  present 


296 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


He  was  interested,  besides,  in  the  passage  of  the  new  Mili- 
tia Act,  and  in  one  designed  to  raise  the  State  quota  of 
Continental  troops.  These  were  sufficient  to  compel  his 
presence.  But  he  remained  with  reluctance.  His  letters 
from  Jacksonborough  betray  the  most  constant  anxiety 
about  his  brigade.  He  had  yielded  it  to  Horry  with  the 
most  earnest  exhortations  to  caution.  By  his  orders,  the  lat- 
ter, the  more  completely  to  ensure  its  safety,  removed  to  a 
position  on  the  north  side  of  Wambaw,  a creek  emptying 
into  the  Santee.  Here,  in  an  angle  formed  by  the  two 
roads  which  pass  from  Lenud’s  Ferry  road  to  Horry’s 
plantation,  about  a quarter  of  a mile  from  the  bridge, 
Horry  occupied  a post  which  caution  might  have  rendered 
safe.  In  his  rear  was  a wood.  His  newly  raised  regi- 
ment, not  half  complete,  lay  at  Durant’s  plantation,  about 
a mile  above,  under  the  command  of  Major  Benson.  Horry 
does  not  seem  to  have  been  remiss  in  his  duties,  but  about 
this  time  he  fell  sick,  and,  for  some  time  before,  he  had 
been,  and  still  was,  somewhat  wilful.  There  was  an  un- 
happy dispute  between  himself  and  Col.  Maliam,  touch- 
ing rank  and  precedence.  The  latter  refused  to  be  com- 
manded by  the  former,  claiming  to  be  equal  in  commission, 
and,  when  Marion  went  to  Jacksonborough,  separated  his 
corps  from  the  brigade,  posted  them  higher  up  the  river, 
and,  being  a member  of  the  Legislature,  proceeded  to 
Jacksonborough  also.  Greene  was  not  unwilling,  in  the 
present  juncture  of  affairs,  that  the  native  officers  should 
be  present  at  the  deliberations  of  this  body.  The  civil 
objects  were  just  then  even  more  important  than  the  mili- 
tary. 

The  contumacy  of  Maham  was  a subject  of  the  most 
earnest  discussion.  Both  Marion  and  Greene  decided 
against  him  ; yet  both  were  reluctant  to  offend  him,  as  they 
knew  his  value  as  a cavalry  officer.  Maham  seems  to  have 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


397 


acted  under  some  erroneous  impressions  of  the  independi  nee 
of  a legionary  brigade,  as  he  claimed  his  to  be.  He  also  com 
plained  of  the  free  use  which  Marion  made  of  his  cavalry, 
and  the  severe  duties  he  was  required  to  perform.  To 
this,  Greene  replies  : “You  are  to  consider  how  extensive 
the  country  he  has  to  guard,  and  how  much  he  depends 
upon  your  corps.  This  will  account  for  the  hard  service 
you  have  been  put  to.  The  general  is  a good  man,  and 
when  you  consider  his  difficulties,  and  make  just  allow- 
ances, perhaps  you  will  have  little  to  complain  of  but  the 
hard  necessity  of  the  service.” 

But  this  reply  did  not  produce  its  effect,  and  Maham 
certainly  erred,  as  a soldier,  in  complaining  of  the  severity 
of  his  tasks.  In  the  old  chivalrous  periods,  the  peculiar 
severity  of  the  duties  assigned  to  knighthood  was  recog- 
nized gratefully,  as  matter  of  compliment  and  trust.  He 
still  held  off ; and  Marion  promptly  demanded,  that,  if  Ma 
ham  had  any  independent  right  of  command,  while  nomi- 
nally under  him,  he  might  be  at  once  withdrawn  from  the 
brigade.  Maham’s  manner  and  tone  were  quite  respect- 
ful, but  tenacious ; and  while  the  discussion  was  in  pro- 
gress, and  he  holding  off  from  Horry,  events  were  brewing 
which  were  destined  to  terminate  the  unfortunate  dispute 
by  a capital  misfortune. 

Again  taking  advantage  of  the  absence  of  Marion,  an 
expedition  was  set  on  foot  in  Charleston,  against  Horry. 
A detachment  of  two  hundred  horse,  five  hundred  infantry, 
and  two  pieces  of  artillery,  under  Col.  Thomson  (better 
known  in  after-times  as  Count  Rumford),  prepared  to  as- 
cend Cooper  river.  Its  preparations  were  not  conducted 
with  such  caution,  however,  but  that  they  became  known 
to  the  vigilant  friends  of  the  Americans  in  and  about  the 
city.  The  army  was  warned  of  their  preparations.  Greene 
hinted  to  Marion  the  necessity  of  returning  to  his  command 
13* 


29S 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


The  latter  replies,  by  declaring  his  great  anxiety  to  do  so, 
out  urges  the  impossibility  of  leaving  the  Senate,  lest  the 
Assembly  should  be  broken  up — an  event  which  might  be 
of  fatal  importance  to  the  cause,  unless  the  great  business 
of  the  session  were  first  disposed  of.  He  promises  to 
move  as  soon  as  this  should  be  the  case.  The  actual 
movement  of  the  British  detachment  made  it  impossible 
that  Marion  should  longer  delay  to  rejoin  his  brigade,  and, 
accompanied  by  Col.  Maham,  he  reached  the  ground  on 
which  the  regiment  of  the  latter  was  encamped,  by  a cir- 
cuitous route  and  rapid  riding,  on  the  24th  February 
Here  they  were  unhappily  told  that  the  enemy  was  re- 
tiring. Marion,  accordingly,  remained  to  rest  and  refresh 
himself,  while  Maham  paid  a visit  to  his  own  plantation. 
In  a few  hours  after  Maham’s  departure,  an  express 
arrived  with  the  mortifying  intelligence  that  the  brigade 
had  been  surprised  and  dispersed.  Marion,  instantly  put- 
ting himself  at  the  head  of  Maham’s  regiment,  hurried  on 
toward  Wambaw,  the  scene  of  the  event,  to  check  pursuit 
and  collect  and  save  the  fugitives. 

We  have  seen  the  position  of  Horry.  He  had  sent  out 
his  scouts  on  all  the  roads  by  which  the  approach  of  an 
enemy  might  be  apprehended.  Feeling  himself  secure, 
and  being  sick,  he  went  over  the  river  on  the  24th,  the  day 
of  the  catastrophe,  to  his  plantation,  leaving  the  brigade 
under  the  command  of  Col.  M‘Donald.  Major  Benson, 
as  will  be  remembered,  held  a position,  with  the  incom- 
plete regiment  of  Horry,  at  Durant’s  plantation,  about  a 
mile  above  that  of  the  brigade.  By  some  unaccountable 
remissness  of  patrols  or  videttes,  the  British  cavalry,  under 
Coffin,  surprised  the  latter  post.  Benson,  it  is  said,  had 
been  told  by  Capt.  Bennett,  who  commanded  the  scouts  in 
St.  Thomas’s,  that  the  enemy  was  approaching ; but  the 
information  was  brought  to  him  while  at  dinner,  and  a 


LIFE  OF  MARIO  IT. 


299 

appet'te  made  him  slow  to  believe  tidings  which 
migli . have  lessened  the  enjoyment  of  the  meal.  Bennett 
proceeded  to  Horry’s  head-quarters,  -where  Col.  M‘Donald 
happened  to  be  at  dinner  also.  He  proved  equally  incre- 
dulous, but  desired  Major  James,  who  had  just  arrived  in 
camp,  to  take  command  of  his  regiment.  The  surprise  of 
Benson  was  complete,  and  he  paid  for  his  remissness  or  in- 
difference with  his  life.  The  firing  at  Durant’s  convinced 
M'Donald  of  his  error  ; but,  in  all  probability,  the  sur- 
prise was  quite  as  complete  in  the  one  command  as  in  the 
other.  There  were  two  regiments  of  “ six-months’  men” 
—that  is  to  say,  “ reformed  Tories” — persons  who  had 
come  in  under  the  proclamation  issued  by  Governor  Rut- 
ledge. These  broke  at  the  first  encounter  with  the  enemy. 
In  their  flight,  and  to  prevent  pursuit,  they  threw  off  the 
planks  from  Wambaw  bridge.  Fortunately,  a strong  body, 
under  Major  James,  checked  the  pursuit  for  a space,  and  gave 
an  opportunity  for  the  fugitives  to  save  themselves.  Many 
of  them  crossed  the  river  by  swimming,  but  some  were 
drowned  in  the  attempt.  The  thickets  saved  the  infantry. 
No  prisoners  were  taken.  The  British  gave  no  quarter. 
Successful  against  Benson  and  M‘Donald,  the  enemy 
pressed  forward  in  the  direction  of  Marion’s  approach,  but 
without  having  any  knowledge  of  his  proximity.  He  had 
halted  with  the  cavalry  of  Maham,  at  the  house  of  Mrs. 
Tidyman,  about  four  miles  from  the  scene  of  the  disaster, 
to  refresh  his  men  and  horses.  The  latter  were  unbitted 
and  feeding,  when  the  viiole  of  the  enemy’s  cavalry  made 
their  appearance.  It  would  seem,  from  the  indecision  of 
their  commander,  that  he  was  no  less  surprised  at  falling 
in  with  this  body  of  Marion’s  men,  than  was  our  partisan 
at  his  sudden  appearance.  His  hesitation  under  this  sur 
prise  gave  the  Americans  an  opportunity  to  recover  them- 
selves. It  was  the  opinion  of  Maham,  that,  had  the 


300 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


charge  been  sounded  the  moment  that  he  uame  in  view, 
the  whole  regiment  must  have  been  lost.  There  was  no 
retreat,  save  by  the  river,  and  by  the  lane  through  which 
hey  had  entered  the  plantation,  and  of  this  the  enemy  had 
full  command.  The  halt  and  hesitation  of  the  British  — 
their  seeming  alarm — at  once  afforded  Marion  the  means 
of  extrication  from  his  predicament.  To  bit  and  mount 
their  horses,  was,  for  his  cavalry,  the  work  of  a moment 
Though  not  counting  half  the  numbers  of  the  enemy,  Ma 
rion’s  instant  resolution  was  to  issue  forth  by  the  lane,  and 
attack  them.  They  had  displayed  themselves  in  front  of 
it.  Just  before  the  lane  was  an  old  field,  and  a little  to 
the  right  a pond  of  water.  Marion,  placing  a small  body 
of  infantry  to  great  advantage  along  the  fence,  ordered  his 
column  of  cavalry  to  advance  through  the  lane  to  the 
attack.  His  men  were  well  mounted  ; in  this  respect,  if 
inferior  in  numbers,  they  had  a manifest  advantage  over 
the  British.  The  latter  had  been  too  long  cooped  up  in 
the  walls  of  Charleston,  on  short  commons,  to  be  very  ser- 
viceable ; and  the  cavalry  of  Maham,  though  somewhat 
too  much  crowded  with  the  “ new-made  Whigs,”  were 
yet  confident,  from  long  experience,  in  their  ability 
to  contend  with  the  enemy.  Marion  himself  was  confi- 
dent, but  was  destined, in  this  instance, to  lose,  what  he  him- 
self, in  his  dispatches,  has  styled,  “ a glorious  opportunity 
of  cutting  up  the  British  cavalry.”  His  men  moved  to 
the  extremity  of  the  lane,  before  which  the  enemy  had 
halted,  with  a firm  and  promising  countenance.  The  front 
section  was  led  by  Capt.  Smith,  an  officer  of  approved 
courage,  who,  in  a very  recent  affair  at  St  Thomas’ 
muster-house,  had  signally  distinguished  himself.  Yet, 
seized  with  a sudden  panic,  the  moment  that  he  reached 
the  end  of  the  lane,  he  dashed  into  the  woods  on  the  right, 
and  dnw  after  him  the  whole  regiment.  Marion  himself, 


I,IFE  OF  MARION. 


301 


who  was  near  the  head  of  the  column,  was  Dome  away  by 
the  torrent,  which  he  in  vain  struggled  to  withstand.  The 
rush  was  irresistible — the  confusion  irretrievable.  All 
efforts  to  restrain  or  recover  the  fugitives  were  idle,  until 
they  had  reached  the  woods.  There  Marion  succeeded  in 
rallying  a party,  and  at  this  point  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy 
was  checked,  and  the  fugitives  partly  rallied.  They  had 
sustained  but  little  loss  in  lives  ; but  the  shame,  the  dis- 
grace of  such  a panic,  were  immeasurably  humiliating 
The  British  showed  no  eagerness  in  the  pursuit.  They 
seemed  to  doubt  the  bloodless  victory  which  they  had  won, 
and,  content  with  their  own  escape,  were  not  unreasonably 
urgent  with  fortune  to  make  their  victory  complete.  They 
subsequently,  after  they  had  fully  recovei’ed  from  their 
panic,  contrived  greatly  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of 
the  event.  One  of  the  newspapers  of  the  day  has  the  fol- 
lowing : — “ Things  hear  a better  prospect  than  they  did. 
Colonel  Thomson  has  defeated  General  Marion  in  South 
Carolina,  killed  one  hundred  men,  and  Marion  was 
drowned,  attempting  to  escape.”  The  only  officer  drowned 
in  the  flight,  was  Lieut.  Smyzer  of  Horry’s  cavalry. 

The  loss  of  the  brigade  in  horses  and  accoutrements  was 
greater  than  in  men.  Their  greater  loss,  however,  was  of 
that  confidence  in  themselves  and  one  another,  which  it 
was  one  of  the  greatest  objects  of  Marion’s  training  to  in- 
spire. The  true  secret  of  the  superiority  of  regulars  over 
militia-men  lies  in  the  habit  of  mutual  reliance.  They  feel 
each  other’s  elbows,  in  military  parlance — they  are  assured 
by  the  custom  of  mutually  depending  one  upon  the  other. 
This  habit  impresses  them  with  a conviction,  which  tht 
terrors  of  conflict  do  not  often  impair,  that  they  will  not  be 
deserted  ; and,  thus  assured,  they  hurry  into  the  battle,  and 
remain  in  it  so  long  as  the  body  with  which  they  move 
car  act  together  Once  broken,  however,  the  cry  is 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


402 

‘ sauce  qui  pent.'*  Not  so  with  militia-men.  They  never 
forget  their  individuality.  The  very  feeling  of  personal 
independence  is  apt  to  impair  their  confidence  in  one  an- 
other. Their  habit  is  to  obey  the  individual  impulse 
They  do  not  wait  to  take  their  temper  from  their  neighbor 
right  and  left.  Hence  their  irregularity — the  difficulty  of 
restraining  them — of  making  them  act  in  routine,  and  with 
entire  reference  to  the  action  of  other  bodies.  So  far  from 
deriving  strength  from  feeling  another’s  elbow,  they  much 
prefer  elbow  room.  Could  they  be  assured  of  one  another, 
they  were  the  greatest  troops  in  the  world.  They  are 
the  greatest  troops  in  the  world — capable  of  the  most  daring 
and  heroic  achievements — wherever  the  skill  of  the  com- 
mander can  inspire  this  feeling  of  mutual  reliance.  Fre- 
quent co-operation  of  the  same  persons  under  the  same 
leader  produces  it,  and  makes  them  veterans.  The  old 
soldiers  of  the  brigade  had  it  in  perfection.  It  was  one  of 
the  excellences  of  Marion  that  it  followed  so  certainly  and 
rapidly  from  his  peculiar  training.  That  it  should  be  lost 
or  impaired,  was  a most  serious  evil.  That  it  would  not 
have  been  endangered,  we  are  sure,  had  it  not  been  that  the 
brigade  no  longer  consisted  of  the  brave  fellows  who  had 
clung  to  him  through  the  campaigns  of  the  last  two  years. 
The  new  recruits  were,  in  all  probability,  to  blame  for  the 
mischance ; and  something,  perhaps,  is  due  to  the  unhappy 
quarrel  between  Maham  and  Horry.  The  former  was 
terribly  mortified  by  the  affair — mortified  that  Marion  should 
have  hurried  to  the  scene  of  action  without  apprising  him, 
and  vexed  that  his  own  regiment  should  have  behaved  so 
badly.  He  complains  that  others  should  u expend  the 
strength  of  the  regiment  without  giving  him  the  satisfaction 
of  being  present.”  Captain  John  Caraway  Smith,  the 
officer  v ho  led  the  column  thus  disastrously  aside,  resigned 
the  day  after  the  affair.  His  conduct  had  been  habitually 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


30.'-! 

brave.  But  a short  time  before,  as  already  shown,  he  had 
behaved  with  the  most  determine  1 and  audacious  gallantry 
at  the  head  of  the  same  troop.  That  their  training  was 
defective  is  beyond  question,  but  no  imputation  rested  upon 
their  courage  or  his  own.  Nevertheless,  we  have  Na- 
poleon’s authority  for  the  opinion  that  every  man  has  his 
moment  de  peur.  No  man  is  equally  firm  on  all  occasions. 
There  are  moods  of  weakness  and  irresolution  in  every 
mind,  which  is  not  exactly  a machine,  which  impair  its 
energies,  and  make  its  course  erratic  and  uncertain. 
The  truth  was  known  in  earlier  ages.  The  old  poets 
ascribed  it  to  supernatural  influence.  Envious  deities  in- 
terposed between  valor  and  its  victim,  paralysing  the-  soul 
of  the  one  and  strengthening  that  of  the  other.  Thus  we 
find  even  Hector,  upon  occasion,  the  slave  of  panic,  and 
Paris,  on  the  other  hand,  almost  emulating  the  spirit  of  his 
brother. 

The  conduct  of  Captain  Smith,  in  this  affair,  has  been 
excused  by  Maham.  He  ascribes  it  to  an  error  of  Marion 
himself.  He  says  that,  “ Marion  (who  was  an  infantry 
officer)  gave  the  order  to  file  off  from  the  house  to  the  right , 
instead  of  ordering  to  charge  ! This  induced  his  officers  to 
believe  that  they  were  to  retreat  and  not  to  fight.”  This 
may  be  true ; but  it  is  scarcely  probable.  Retreat  from 
the  house,  except  into  the  river,  seems  to  have  been  cut  off. 
The  only  other  avenue  was  the  lane.  At  the  end  of  this 
was  the  enemy,  drawn  out  in  order  of  tattle.  Upon  these 
tne  advance  was  ordered  We  have  seen  that  Marion 
himself  exulted  in  the  conviction  that  the  enemy  was  in 
his  power.  His  exultation  could  not  have  been  entirely 
concealed  from  his  officers.  It  must  have  declared  itself  in 
some  way.  The  halt  and  hesitation  of  the  British  were 
perceptible  to  all.  They  were  in  superior  numbers,  and 
when  they  reached  the  head  of  the  lane,  the  horses  of  the 


304 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


American  cavalry  were  unbitted  and  feeding.  A suoaen 
and  resolute  charge,  according  to  Maham,  on  the  part  of 
the  British,  would  have  resulted  in  the  entire  defeat  of  the 
regiment.  That  they  did  not  order  this  charge  betrayed 
their  apprehensions,  and  should  have  encouraged,  in  simi- 
lar degree,  the  Americans — did  encourage  them,  and  hence 
the  resolve  of  Marion  to  advance  upon  them  That  it 
should  be  supposed  he  would  hurry  forward,  in  the  very 
teeth  of  the  enemy,  only  to  dash  aside  in  confusion  from  the 
struggle,  is  scarcely  reasonable.  But  Maham  was  offend- 
ed with  Marion.  The  latter  had  decided  against  him  in 
the  controversy  with  Horry  ; and  the  subsequent  movement 
against  the  British,  without  stopping  to  require  his  presence, 
was  another  mortifying  circumstance  which  he  was  not 
likely  to  forget.  Biassed  by  his  feelings,  he  was  not  will- 
ing to  believe  that  the  seeming  slight  was  in  reality  due  to 
the  emergency  of  the  case,  which  wmuld  not  allow  a mo- 
ment’s hesitation  in  Marion’s  movement  at  such  a juncture. 

As  soon  as  the  presence  of  Marion  was  known,  the  fugi- 
tives gathered  around  him.  But  for  his  absence  they  had 
never  been  dispersed.  Horry’s  regiment  was  very  much 
crippled;  Maham’s  in  equally  bad  condition.  Of  M‘Don- 
ald’s,  and  the  brigade,  a few  hundred  were  soon  brought 
together ; and  with  his  deranged  and  dispirited  band,  our 
partisan  retired  beyond  the  Santee  to  repair  and  recruit  his 
strength,  and  revive  the  confidence  of  his  men  in  their 
leaders  and  themselves.  In  the  meanwhile,  the  country 
which  he  had  so  recently  covered  and  protected  was 
harried  by  the  British.  They  improved  the  interval  of 
his  absence  by  suci  essful  incursions.  The  cattle  had  been 
already  put  beyond  their  power,  on  the  other  side  the 
Santee ; but  they  stripped  the  plantations  within  their  reach, 
as  well  of  slaves  as  of  provisions.  Greene  could  do  noth- 
ing to  prevent  them.  His  own  army  was  in  a state  of 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


305 


convulsioi.  and  commotion;  suffering frmn  distress  and  dis- 
content, and  threatened  with  dissolution.  Recent  occur- 
rences had  awakened  his  fears  for  his  own  security. 

One  result  of  Marion’s  recent  disaster  was  to  put  an  end 
to  the  dispute  between  Horry  and  Maham.  Their  respect- 
ive regiments  were  so  reduced,  after  the  affair  at  Wambaw, 
that  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  amalgamate  them.  Hav- 
ing resolved  upon  this  measure,  Gov.  Mathews,  who  had 
succeeded  Rutledge,  applied  to  Marion  to  know  who  of  the 
two  was  the  best  cavalry  officer — an  opinion  which  jVTarion 
yielded  with  great  reluctance.  His  personal  preferences 
went  with  Horry,  but  he  could  not  hesitate  in  declaring  for 
Maham.  Horry,  with  the  ambition  of  a spirited  soldier, 
eagerly  desired  a command  of  cavalry, — wras  a good  infan- 
try officer,  and  had  all  the  requirements  of  skill  and  bravery. 
But  he  was  no  horseman,  and  it  is  said  that,  in  several  of 
his  charges,  he  was  indebted  to  some  one  or  other  of  his 
men  for  his  own  safety,  being  commonly  unhorsed.  His 
gallantry  and  patriotism  were  equally  unquestionable. 
They  had  been  displayed  from  the  beginning  of  the  war. 
The  preference  shown  Maham  caused  Horry’s  resignation 
from  the  service  ; but  to  console  him  for  the  mortification, 
Marion  made  him  commandant  of  Georgetown,  a post 
which  united  the  responsibilities  and  duties  of  a military 
and  civil  service. 

With  the  adjournment  of  the  Assembly  at  Jackson- 
borough,  the  army  of  Greene  moved  down  from  Skirving’s 
plantation  to  Bacon’s  bridge,  at  the  head  of  Ashley  river. 
Here,  within  twenty  miles  of  the  enemy,  a dangerous  con- 
spiracy ripened  almost  to  maturity  among  the  Pennsyl- 
vania troops,  composed  in  part  of  the  very  mutineers  who 
had  triumphed  over  government  in  the  insurrection  in 
Jersey,  and  who,  as  Lafayette  observed,*  “ had  been  well 

» Johnson’s  Life  of  Greene,  Yol.  ii.,  p.  319 


306 


L<  FE  OP  MARION. 


paid  and  well  clothed  in  consequence  of  it.”  This,  we 
believe,  was  the  only  body  of  troops  furnished  to  the 
Southern  army,  during  the  Revolution,  from  any  of  the 
States  north  of  Maryland  and  Delaware.  We  make  this 
remark  with  the  view  to  the  correction  of  a very  general 
error,  arising  from  the  vague  manner  in  which  it  is  customary 
for  our  historians  to  speak  of  the  sources  of  the  personnel  of 
the  Southern  army.  The  armies  led  by  Gates  and  Greene, 
to  the  defence  of  Carolina,  were  truly  from  States  north  of 
her,  but  they  were  not  Northern  States.  Two  fine  bodies  of 
troops  came  from  Maryland  and  Delaware,  but  the  rest  were 
from  Virginia  and  North  Carolina, — with  the  exception  of 
the  Pennsylvania  line,  of  which  we  have  now  to  speak. 
These,  as  we  have  seen,  had  been  refractory  in  Jersey, 
and  instead  of  being  punished,  were  paid  for  their  sedition. 
It  was  natural  that  they  should  endeavor  to  renew  an  ex- 
periment which  had  already  proved  so  profitable.  The 
mutineers  were  directed  by  one  Sergeant  Gornell.  Their 
number  is  unknown.  They  were  solely  of  the  Pennsyl- 
vania line,  and  might  have  been  successful  but  for  an  at- 
tempt which  they  made  upon  the  fidelity  of  the  Mary- 
landers. Their  purpose  was  to  deliver  Greene  to  the 
enemy,  and  otherwise  facilitate  the  objects  of  the  latter, 
who  were  to  make  a concerted  movement,  in  force,  upon 
the  American  army,  at  a prescribed  moment.  The  inte- 
grity of  the  Marylanders,  wdiom  Gornell  approached,  was 
not  to  be  shaken  ; and  to  their  fidelity  and  the  quick. ears 
of  one  of  the  camp-women,  the  army  was  indebted  for  its 
safety.  The  circumstances  were  all  in  favor  of  the  success 
of  the  conspirators.  There  was  a general  discontent  in  the 
army.  The  troops  were  badly  fed  and  clothed — were 
unpaid,  doubtful  of  pay,  and  suffering  present  distresses. 
They  were  inactive.  Many  of  them  were  new  recruits. 
Greene  was  no  longer  surrounded  by  the  tried  and  true 
men  and  officers,  who  had  borne  the  brunt  of  the  contest. 


LIVE  OF  MARION 


307 


1 he  term  of  service  of  the  former  had  in  great  part  expired  ; 
some  of  his  best  officers  were  on  furlough,  and  he  had 
offended  others.  Sumter  had  left  the  army  in  disgust  ; 
Pickens  was  operating  against  the  Indians ; Marion  was 
recruiting  his  brigade  on  the  Santee ; Williams  had  gone 
home  ; Howard  was  in  Maryland,  scarcely  recovered  from 
his  wounds  ; Wayne  was  in  Georgia,  doing  good  service 
in  that  quarter ; St.  Clair  was  absent  on  leave  ; Lee  had 
gone  to  Virginia  to  get  married,  and  his  legion  was  almost 
shorn  of  officers  ; Eggleston  had  gone  with  him  to  Virginia, 
and  the  brave  fellows,  Armstrong  and  Carrington,  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  The  time  was  well  chosen 
for  mutiny,  and  as  the  hour  drew  near  for  the  consumma- 
tion of  the  purpose  of  the  conspirators,  the  British  army 
was  set  in  motion  from  below, — not  so  secretly,  however, 
but  that  their  movements  were  made  known  to  the  Ameri- 
cans. Symptoms  of  mutiny  became  apparent  in  the  camp, 
and  it  was  necessary  to  proceed  with  vigor.  Doubtful  of 
a large  number  of  those  around  him,  Greene  summoned 
Marion  with  all  his  force  from  the  Santee,  wdiile  his  own 
army  wras  kept  in  order  of  battle.  The  arrest  of  Cornell, 
wdth  that  of  four  others,  all  sergeants  of  the  Pennsylyania 
line,  took  place  the  night  before  the  conspiracy  was  to  take 
effect.  Gornell  was  tried  and  executed  ; the  others  were 
sent  under  guard  into  the  interior.  This  proceeding  wras 
the  signal  for  the  flight  of  at  least  a dozen  more,  who, 
having  been  committed,  broke  away  on  the  night  of  Gor- 
nell’s  seizure,  and  found  protection  with  the  enemy,  who 
advanced  in  force  to  receive  them.  This  prompt  proceed- 
ing suppressed  the  mutiny.  The  development  of  the  con- 
spiracy, the  state  of  preparedness  in  the  camp  of  Greene,  and 
the  movement  of  Marion,  had  the  effect  of  discouraging  the 
farther  advance  of  the  British  army;  and  Marion,  while 
yet  in  motion  for  the  camp  of  Greene,  from  which  he  wa a 


308 


LIFE  OF  MARION, 


but  eight  miles  distant,  was  summoned  in  haste  to  the  protec 
tion  of  Georgetown,  against  which  the  enemy  was  reported 
to  have  sailed  from  Charleston.  A forced  march  of  four 
days  brought  him  to  White’s  Bridge,  when  it  was  discover- 
ed that  the  alarm  was  unfounded.  The  enemy  had  not 
shown  himself,  and  was  not  nigh.  In  this  march  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty  miles,  Marion’s  men  had  but  a single 
ration  of  rice.  Their  sole  food,  with  this  exception,  was 
lean  beef.  The  march  took  place  in  April,  when  there  is 
no  forage  for  cattle,  and  when  such  as  survive  the  winter, 
are  compelled  to  wander  far  in  the  swamps  and  thickets  in 
search  of  the  scanty  herbage  which  sustains  them.  The 
march  of  our  partisan  in  these  two  expeditions  was  con- 
ducted solely  on  foot.  The  country  south  of  the  Santee 
had  been  so  completely  foraged  by  the  British,  during  his 
vacation  of  it,  that  he  was  compelled  to  dismount  his  in- 
fantry in  his  movements  until  the  spring  herbage  should 
enable  him  to  feed  his  horses.  His  force  was  reduced  to 
two  hundred  militia  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  horse. 
It  was  the  wish  of  General  Greene  that  he  should  take 
post  as  near  the  enemy  as  possible,  in  order  both  to  shorten 
his  limits  beyond  Cooper  river,  and  to  enable  Col.  Laurens, 
who  now  commanded  the  legion  of  Lee,  to  pass  the  Ashley, 
and  close  upon  the  British  between  the  latter  river  and 
Goose  Creek.  But  with  his  infantry  dismounted,  he  dared 
not  venture  so  completely  within  the  reach  of  an  enemy  so 
superior  ; and  with  the  double  purpose  of  securing  a re- 
treat, if  necessary,  and  of  forming  a junction  with  any  party 
when  desirable,  either  at  Huger’s  Bridge,  ovei  the  west 
branch  of  Cooper  river,  or  at  Strawberry  Ferry,  he  took 
post  at  Sinkler’s  plantation  on  the  Santee.  This  left  him 
within  twenty-five  miles  of  each  of  these  designated  routes 
His  cavalry  meanwhile  patrolled  the  country  as  low  as 
Haddrell  and  Hobeaw,  and  in  sight  of  the  British  posts  at 


LI1  E OF  MARION 


309 


those  places.  They  thus  procured  the  earliest  news  of 
the  enemy’s  movements,  and  checked  his  incursions  in  that 
quarter.  The  effect  of  Marion’s  presence  with  his  bri- 
gade was  soon  felt,  as  well  by  his  people  as  by  the  British. 
By  the  latter  it  was  deemed  important  to  relieve  themselves 
from  a neighbor  at  once  so  vigrilant  and  inconvenient.  A mes- 
senger,  feigning  to  be  a deserter,  was  dispatched  by  General 
Leslie,  whose  plan  was  to  make  his  way  through  the  scouts 
of  Marion,  to  the  Scotch  and  loyal  settlements  on  the 
borders  of  North  Carolina.  These  were  to  be  stirred  up 
to  insurrection,  and  Marion  was  to  be  diverted  from  a quar- 
ter in  which  his  presence  was  particularly  annoying.  The 
messenger  succeeded  in  his  object,  but  was  less  fortunate 
in  his  return.  He  had  done  the  mischief  required  at  his 
hands,  fomented  the  insurrection,  and  set  the  loyalists  in 
motion.  The  proofs  were  conclusive  against  him,  and 
he  perished  by  military  execution.  The  timely  notice 
which  Marion  obtained  of  his  labors  enabled  him  to  pre- 
pare against  the  event. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Marion  summoned  with  his  force  to  that  of  Greene. — Insurrec- 
tion of  the  Loyalists  on  the  Pedee. — Marches  against  them — 
Subdues  them. — Treats  with  Gainey. — Fanning.— Protects  the 
Tory,  Butler,  from  his  men. — Returns  to  the  country  between 
the  Santee  and  the  Cooper. — Moves  to  protect  Georgetown 
from  the  British  fleet. — Takes  post  at  Watboo,  on  Cooper 
river. — Defeats  the  British  cavalry  under  Major  Frasier. 

Meanwhile,  the  main  body  of  the  army  under  Greene  con- 
tinued to  suffer  diminution.  On  the  first  of  May  a large 
proportion  of  the  North  Carolina  troops  were  entitled  to 
and  claimed  their  discharge.  No  recruits  were  expected 
from  the  North,  and  it  became  necessary  to  draw  together 
all  the  force  that  South  Carolina  could  afford.  The  Gov- 
ernment of  this  State,  from  its  first  re-organization,  had 
faithfully  endeavored  to  re-establish  the  South  Carolina 
line,  but,  being  without  money  or  means,  with  very  little 
success.  A few  recruits  were  obtained  from  among 
those  who  had  recently  received  their  discharge,  but 
the  service  had  been  of  a kind  to  baffle  all  the  tempta- 
tions and  arguments  of  the  recruiting  officers.  In  the  emer- 
gency  of  the  case,  it  became  indispensable  to  look  to  the 
militia  under  Marion,  Pickens  and  Henderson ; and  these 
leaders  were  accordingly  required  to  repair  to  head- 
quarters. 

The  withdrawal  of  the  former,  with  his  troops,  from  the 
region  of  country  which  they  had  so  lately  covered,  w as 
‘.he  signal  for  that  rising  of  the  loyalists  upon  the  Pedee,  to 
instigate  which  the  unfortunate  emissary  of  General  Leslie 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


311 


had  been  dispatched  from  Charleston.  The  absence  of 
Marion  was  considered  auspicious  to  the  new  movement. 
He  had  scarcely  reached  Dorchester  when  his  ancient 
enemy,  Major  Gainey,  appeared  in  arms  at  the  head  of  a 
considerable  body  of  troops,  both  cavalry  and  infantry.  A 
small  command  under  Col.  Baxter,  which  had  been  left  by 
Marion  to  observe  their  movements,  was  too  feeble  to  make 
head  against  them,  and  it  became  necessary  for  Marion 
himself  to  retrace  his  steps,  and  arrest  the  progress  of  the 
insurrection.  Placing  himself  at  the  head  of  Maham’s 
cavalry,  he  promptly  advanced  in  the  direction  of  the 
enemy.  So  rapid  were  his  movements,  so  vigilant  his 
watch,  so  well  devised  his  plans,  that  he  reached  the 
Pedee  country  long  before  his  approach  was  suspected. 
His  presence,  on  the  present  occasion,  was  a surprise.  It 
had  long  been  a terror ; so  much  so  that  but  for  his  re- 
moteness at  the  camp  of  Greene,  they  had,  in  all  probabili- 
ty, never  ventured  to  resume  their  arms.  Three  separate 
bodies  of  men,  by  a judicious  arrangement  of  our  partisan, 
were  prepared  to  enter  their  country  at  the  same  moment. 
These  were  so  placed,  that,  though  operating  separately, 
they  might  yet  be  made  to  co-operate  if  desired.  The 
effect  was  such  as  to  paralyse  the  incipient  resolution  of 
the  loyalists.  They  showed  no  disposition  for  fight  ; and 
feeling  their  temper,  conscious  of  his  difficulties,  and  now 
no  longer  hopeful  of  help  from  the  British,  Gainey  dispatch- 
ed a flag  to  Marion  with  proposals  to  treat  for  a pacifica- 
tion. He  was  not  unwilling  to  renew  the  treaty  which, 
just  one  year  before, he  had  entered  into  with  Horry,  who 
then  acted  as  the  lieutenant  of  our  partisan.  This  treaty, 
influenced  by  British  emissaries,  the  Tories  had  very  im- 
perfectly kept.  In  small  squads  they  had  been  perpetually 
rising,  and  committing  trespasses  upon  their  neighbors 
whenever  the  withdrawal  of  Marion’s  men  afforded  them 


312 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


opportunity  They  had  now  everything  to  fear  from  his 
anger ; but  they  also  knew  his  willingness  to  forgive. 
Relying  upon  this,  and  making  a merit  of  necessity,  the 
communication  of  Gainey  expressed  the  warmest  solicitude 
for  peace.  To  this  Marion  was  prepared  to  listen.  Com- 
missioners were  appointed  on  both  sides.  They  met,  but, 
unhappily,  they  recognized  in  each  other  well  known  per- 
sonal opponents.  They  had  often  met  in  strife,  and  could 
not  forbear  alluding  to  their  encounters.  The  conversa- 
tion grew  warm,  the  parties  excited,  and  instead  of  coming 
to  terms,  the  commissioners  almost  came  to  blows.  They 
separated  with  increased  resentment.  A fierce  skirmish 
followed,  and  the  attempt  to  adjust  their  differences  wras 
renewed  between  the  respective  commanders.  Marion 
was  anxious  to  effect  a pacification.  His  services  were 
required  below  on  the  Santee  and  Cooper,  to  check  the  in- 
cursions of  the  British,  and  he  consented  to  meet  and  con- 
fer with  Gainey  in  person.  This  determination  was  cen- 
sured by  some  of  his  officers.  They  denounced  Gainey  as 
a leader  of  banditti ; and, certainly, his  conduct,  on  many  oc- 
casions, deserved  the  reproach.  They  reproached  Marion 
for  committing  his  dignity  in  treating  with  such  a person. 
But  this  suggestion  did  not  affect  him.  He  was  governed 
by  views  and  principles  very  far  superior  to  those  which  in- 
fluence the  ordinary  soldier.  His  pride  did  not  suffer  from 
such  censures.  His  reply  was  equally  prompt  and  con- 
clusive. He  told  them  that  he  “ aimed  at  no  higher  dig- 
nity than  that  of  essentially  serving  his  country.” 

The  result  was  satisfactory  to  our  partisan.  Making  a 
merit  of  necessity,  Gainey  yielded  without  requiring  any 
farther  resort  to  blows.  At  the  Bowling  Green,  between 
the  Great  and  Little  Pedee,  more  than  five  hundred  men 
laid  down  their  arms,  submitting  to  conditions  which  were 
rather  strict  than  severe.  Marion  and  Gainey  met  at 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


313 


Birch’s  mill  on  the  8th  June,  when  a treaty  was  drawn  up 
having  for  its  basis  the  articles  of  the  preceding  arrange- 
ment with  Horry.  By  this  treaty,  Gainey  and  his  men 
were  to  lay  down  their  arms  and  not  to  resume  them  un- 
less ordered  to  do  so  by  the  authorities  of  the  State  ; they 
bound  themselves  to  deliver  up  all  negroes,  horses,  cattle 
and  other  property  of  which  they  had  dispossessed  the 
people  of  this  or  any  other  State — to  demean  themselves 
as  peaceable  citizens,  and  submit  to  the  laws  of  the  State — 
to  deliver  up  all  contumacious  and  rebellious  persons  with- 
in their  district — to  deliver  up  all  deserters  from  the  regu- 
lar service — to  sign  a declaration  of  allegiance  to  the 
United  States,  and  to  South  Carolina  in  particular,  and  to 
abjure  the  British  crown,  and  to  surrender  all  British  pro- 
perty. Compliance  with  these  conditions,  was  to  ensure 
them  full  pardon  for  their  treasons  to  the  State,  and  the 
enjoyment  of  their  property  as  citizens  within  it ; while 
individuals  not  choosing  to  comply,  were  to  be  permitted, 
with  their  wives  and  children,  a safe  progress  to  the  British 
lines.  From  the  benefits  of  this  treaty,  some  few  atrocious 
offenders  were  excepted.  Major  Gainey  removed  with 
those  who  preferred  to  adhere  to  the  fortunes  of  the  British. 
He  did  not  side  with  their  determination,  but  he  deemed  it 
a duty  to  see  that  those  who  had  followed  his  arms,  should 
be  put  in  safety  beyond  the  reach  of  their  enemies : an 
honorable  resolve  certainly.  Before  his  departure  he 
waited  upon  Marion  and  said  : “ Honor,  sir,  requires  that 
I should  yield  my  commission  to  Col.  Balfour,  from  whom 
1 received  it ; but  this  done,  I shall  immediately  return  to 
the  country  and  seek  your  protection.”  This  was  frankly 
promised  him,  and  with  every  confidence  in  the  assurance 
of  Marion,  as  soon  as  he  had  concluded  his  affairs  in 
Charleston,  he  promptly  returned  and  enrolled  himself  in 
the  American  ranks.  One  of  the  loyalists,  specially  ex- 

14 


314 


LIFE  Of  MARION 


empied  from  the  privileges  of  the  treaty  with  Gainey,  was 
a notorious  marauder  by  the  name  of  Fanning.  He  was  a 
sanguinary  ruffian,  with  considerable  talents,  but  brutal, 
reckless,  and  most  inveterate  in  his  hostility  to  the  Ameri- 
can cause.  Shortly  after  the  treaty  with  Gainey,  this  per- 
son appeared  in  the  truce  ground  at  the  head  of  a small 
party.  It  was  feared  that  he  w'ould  stir  up  the  revolt 
anew.  He  came  for  that  purpose.  Marion  was  at  once 
upon  the  alert.  His  force,  divided  into  three  bodies,  oc- 
cupied various  parts  of  the  lately  disaffected  districts,  and 
overawed  the  spirit  of  revolt,  if  it  yet  existed.  Finding 
the  cause  hopeless  in  that  quarter,  Fanning  sent  a flag  to 
Marion  with  a request  that  he  would  grant  a safe-conduct 
to  his  wife,  and  some  property,  to  the  British  garrison  in 
Charleston.  Against  any  such  concession  the  officers  of 
Marion  expostulated.  They  were  unwilling  that  so  cruel 
a ruffian  should  receive  any  indulgence.  But  Marion 
looked  more  deeply  into  the  matter,  and  yielded  a prompt 
compliance  with  the  request.  “ Let  but  his  wife  and  pro 
perty  reach  the  British  lines,  and  Fanning  will  follow 
Force  them  to  remain,  and  we  only  keep  a serpent  in  out 
bosom.”  Such  was  his  reasoning,  and  the  truth  of  it  was 
very  soon  apparent.  Finding  the  hope  of  insurrection, 
fruitless,  Fanning  fled  the  country,  and  was  as  soon  ip 
Charleston  as  his  wife. 

The  disaffected  districtwas  now  filled  with  Marion’s  meff 
busied  in  securing  all  persons  who,  declining  to  retire  tr 
the  British,  still  withheld  their  submission  from  the  Ameri 
can  authorities.  In  the  execution  of  this  duty,  some  licen 
tiousness  followed — such  irregularities  as  are  apt  to  occur 
where  soldiers  traverse  a subdued  territory.  Intimation' 
of  these  irregularities  reached  the  ears  of  the  partisan.  Nr 
individual  was  charged  with  offence,  and  10  particular* 
were  given ; but  Marion  took  occasion  to  declare  his  in 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


315 


dignation  in  the  presence  of  officers  and  men  I have 
heard  insinuations,”  said  he,  “ which,  if  true,  would  dis- 
grace my  command  ; no  accusation  has  been  made  ; but  I 
wish  you  clearly  to  know  that  let  officer  or  soldier  be 
proved  guilty  of  crime,  and  he  shall  hang  on  the  next  tree.” 
His  firmness  and  sincerity  were  known  ; and  he  heard  of 
no  more  license.  While  engaged  in  the  irksome  duty  of 
arresting  the  recusant,  he  was  equally  busy  in  granting 
written  protections  to  those  who  subscribed  frankly  to  the 
conditions  of  the  treaty.  The  judicious  disposition  and 
immediate  presence  of  his  force — the  terror  inspired  by  his 
successes — the  knowledge  which  they  had  of  his  mercy, 
and  their  evident  abandonment  by  the  British — had  the 
effect  of  bringing  crowds  to  his  camp,  trebling  the  number 
of  his  own  troops,  seeking  the  proffered  securities.  Such 
was  the  consumption  of  paper  on  this  occasion,  or  rather 
such  the  'poverty  at  head-quarters,  that  old  letters  were 
torn  up,  the  backs  of  which  were  put  in  requisition  for 
this  object.  While  at  Birch’s  mills,  on  the  Pedee,  among 
others  who  sought  the  protection  of  Marion  was  one  Capt. 
Butler,  who  had  made  himself  particularly  odious  by  his 
crimes  and  ferocity.  He  had  been  conspicuous  as  the  op- 
pressor of  the  Whig  inhabitants  of  the  Pedee.  He  was 
not  ignorant  of  the  detestation  in  which  he  was  held,  and 
it  was  with  some  misgivings  that  he  sought  the  required 
protection.  His  appearance  in  the  American  camp  was 
the  signal  for  a commotion.  There  were  among  the  men 
of  Marion  some  who  were  connected  with  persons  who 
had  suffered  by  the  atrocities  of  Butler.  They  determined 
to  avenge  their  friends.  They  resolved  that  no  protection 
should  save  him,  and  an  intemperate  message  to  that  effect 
was  sent  to  Marion.  Marion  instantly  took  Butler  tc  his 
own  tent,  and  firmly  answered  those  by  whom  the  message 
was  brought : “ Relying  on  the  pardon  offered,  the  man 


316 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


whom  you  would  destroy  has  submitted.  Both  law  and 
honor  sanction  my  resolution  to  protect  him  with  my  life.” 
A still  more  intemperate  message  reached  him,  declaring 
that  “ Butler  should  be  dragged  to  death  from  his  tent — ■ 
that  to  defend  such  a wretch  was  an  insult  to  humanity  ” 
To  this  Marion  made  no  reply,  but  calling  around  him  the 
members  of  his  family,  and  some  of  his  most  trusty  fol- 
lowers, he  gave  them  to  understand  that  he  should  expect 
their  co-operation  at  all  hazards  in  protecting  the  culprit 
from  violence.  “ Prepare  to  give  me  your  assistance,  for 
though  I consider  the  villany  of  Butler  unparalleled,  yet, 
acting  under  orders  as  I am,  I am  bound  to  defend  him.  I 
will  do  so  or  perish.”  The  mutiny  threatened  to  be  for- 
midable, and  that  night,  Marion  succeeded  with  a strong 
guard  in  conveying  the  prisoner  to  a place  of  safety.  The 
treaty  with  Gainey  put  an  end  to  the  domestic  feuds  upon 
the  Pedee,  and  anxious  to  regain  the  local  confidence  which 
they  had  forfeited,  numbers  of  the  loyalists  of  this  quarter, 
following  the  example  of  their  leader,  entered  the  ranks 
of  the  Americans,  and  though  too  late  to  be  of  effectual 
service  in  the  war,  yet  furnished  sufficient  proofs  of  their 
fidelity. 

No  farther  necessity  appearing  for  the  longer  stay  of 
Marion  on  the  Pedee,  he  prepared  to  return  to  his  former 
range  along  the  rivers  Cooper  and  Santee.  His  absence 
from  this  region  afforded  an  opportunity  for  the  enemy  to 
renew  their  depredations  from  Charleston.  Marion  had 
left  Colonel  Ashby  in  command  of  his  infantry,  when,  at 
the  head  of  Maham’s  horse,  he  hurried  to  encounter 
Gainey,  and  quell  his  insurrection.  Ashby,  pressed  by  a 
superior  British  force,  had  been  compelled  to  yield 
before  it,  and  this  intelligence  left  our  partisan  no  moment 
of  respite  after  quelling  the  commotions  on  the  Pedee,  be- 
fore he  was  required  f a return  and  cover  the  country  which 


LIFE  0 1 MARION 


317 


had  s:>  long  been  indebted  to  his  vigilance  for  protection. 
In  leaving  the  Pedee,  with  still  some  doubts  of  the  newly 
converted  loyalists  of  that  quarter,  he  left  Col.  Baxter 
with  one  hundred  and  fifty  trusty  men,  to  maintain  the  as- 
cendancy which  he  had  just  acquired.  This  object  was  of 
the  last  importance,  not  only  with  reference  to  the  doubt- 
ful personnel  of  the  country,  but  the  valuable  materiel , 
cattle  and  provisions,  which  might  have  ;een  carried  off  to 
the  enemy.  Suspicious  of  the  fidelity  of  the  loyalists, 
there  was  every  reason  to  fear  that  it  might  be  too  strongly 
tested.  The  British  were  known  to  be  preparing  a fleet 
of  small  vessels  for  some  enterprises  directed  northwardly, 
and  no  object  of  importance  seemed  more  obvious  than 
that  of  renewing  the  disturbances  on  the  Pedee  and  pos- 
sessing themselves  of  the  immense  plunder  which  that  re- 
gion of  country  might  still  afford. 

All  precautions  taken,  our  partisan  hurried  his  return 
But  had  he  not  been  joined  by  a newly  raised  corps  under 
Major  Conyers,  he  must  have  marched  alone.  So  rapid 
had  been  his  movements,  so  unremitting  his  duties,  that 
the  cavalry  of  Mayham  which  he  led,  were  completely 
broken  down.  He  was  compelled  to  leave  them  behind 
him  to  recruit.  At  Murray’s  Ferry,  on  the  Santee,  he 
halted  to  collect  his  militia,  and  await  the  arrival  of  May- 
ham’s  corps.  Here  he  consolidated  the  commands  of 
Maham  and  Conyers  into  one  regiment ; and  about  the 
middle  of  July  was  enabled  once  more  to  cross  the  Santee 
with  a force  of  three  hundred  dismounted  infantry,  and  a 
respectable  body  of  horse.  With  these  he  took  post  on  the 
Wassamasaw,  in  a position  which,  while  it  was  secure, 
enabled  him  to  co-operate  with  the  detachments  of  the 
main  army  in  covering  the  country.  Here  his  vigilance 
was  again  conspicuous.  His  parties  were  constantly 
busy.  His  own  movements  to  and  fro,  wherever  an  enemy 


318 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


could  approach,  or  was  suspected,  were  continual,  from 
the  Cooper  to  the  Santee  His  objects  were  threefold — to 
check  the  irruptions  of  the  enemy,  to  cutoff  their  supplies, 
and  to  provide  for  his  own  people.  His  scouting  parties 
penetrated  in  every  hostile  direction — sometimes  as  low  as 
Daniel’s  Island  and  Clement’s  Ferry — points  almost  within 
the  ken  of  the  British  garrison.  But  the  enemy  was  no 
longer  enterprising.  They  were  not  often  met.  Their 
cavalry  was  few  and  inferior,  and  their  exigencies  may  be 
inferred  from  their  uniforming  and  converting  some  of  their 
captured  negroes  into  troopers.  One  corps  of  these  black 
dragoons,  consisting  of  twenty-six  men,  was  cut  to  pieces  by 
one  of  Marion’s  scouting  parties  of  twelve,  commanded  by 
Capt.  Capers. 

The  British,  tired  of  the  war,  were  preparing  to  evacu- 
ate the  country.  Preparatory  to  this,  it  wras  necessary  that 
they  should  lay  in  sufficient  store  of  provisions.  General 
Leslie  had  been  preparing  for  this  necessity  and,  late  in 
July,  a numerous  fleet  of  small  vessels,  conveying  eight 
hundred  men,  and  convoyed  by  galleys  and  armed  brigs, 
left  Charleston  to  proceed,  as  it  was  conjectured,  against 
Georgetown.  This  compelled  Marion  to  hasten  in  that 
direction.  Here  he  made  every  arrangement  for  moving 
the  public  stores  to  a place  of  safety.  Black  Mingo  wras 
preferred  as  the  depot,  for  the  honorable  reason,  as  given 
in  Marion’s  own  words,  that  it  was  “ a settlement  of  good 
citizens  and  cf  my  earliest  and  most  faithful  followers.” 
But  the  enterprise  of  the  enemy  was  less  hazardous.  The 
collection  of  rice  was  their  object.  This  wras  to  be  found 
in  the  greatest  quantity  on  the  Santee,  from  the  banks  of 
wdiich  river  they  carried  off  about  six  hundred  barrels. 
Marion’s  force  w’as  thrown  over  the  Sampit  so  as  to  inter- 
cept their  march  to  Georgetown,  but  he  could  not  impede 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


319 


their  progress  up  the  South  Santee,  protected  as  they  were 
under  the  guns  of  their  galleys. 

With  the  departure  of  the  enemy  from  the  river,  the 
completion  of  his  arrangements  for  the  removal  of  the 
stores  at  Georgetown,  and  the  defence  of  that  place,  Ma- 
rion again  re-crossed  the  Santee  and  hurried  to  Watboo, 
on  the  Cooper.  This  river,  leading  to  Charleston,  to  which 
the  fleet  of  the  enemy  had  returned,  wras  naturally  thought 
to  be  the  next  which  they  would  attempt  to  penetrate. 
He  had  left  a small  body  of  infantry  at  this  place,  but  this 
was  deemed  inadequate  to  the  required  duties.  But  they 
were  sufficient  at  least  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  Bri- 
tish. Ignorant  of  Marion’s  return,  believing  him  to  be  still 
at  Georgetown,  whither,  it  was  known,  he  had  taken  all 
his  cavalry, — a detachment  of  dragoons,  more  than  one 
hundred  strong,  was  sent  from  Charleston,  under  Major 
Frasier,  against  the  post  at  Watboo.  The  rapidity  of 
Marion’s  movements  brought  him  back  in  season  for  its 
safety.  It  happened  unfortunately,  that, when  he  heard  of 
the  approach  of  this  detachment,  his  cavalry  were  absent, 
patrolling  down  the  river,  maintaining  their  watch  for  the 
British  fleet,  which  was  the  chief  subject  of  apprehension. 
This  fleet,  meanwhile,  had  gone  southwardly,  pursuing  the 
object  of  its  former  quest  up  the  waters  of  the  Combahee. 
With  the  approach  of  Frasier,  Marion  dispatched  his  mes- 
sengers in  search  of  his  cavalry,  and  to  call  in  his  pickets. 
Some  of  the  latter  had  joined  him  before  the  enemy  appeared. 
Frasier  exhibited  considerable  conduct  in  making  his  ap- 
proaches. He  had  taken  an  unfrequented  route,  and  had 
succeeded  in  capturing  some  of  the  out-sentinels  of  our 
partisan.  He  advanced  upon  him  in  the  fullest  confidence 
of  effecting  a surprise — not  of  Marion,  but  of  the  smaller 
force  under  Col.  Ashby,  which  he  still  believed  to  be  the 
only  force  opposed  to  him.  He  was  soon  undeceived  and 


320 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


found  his  enemy  rather  stronger  than  he  expected,  and 
drawn  up  in  readiness  for  his  reception.  It  was  about  the 
25th  of  August.  Marion  lay  at  the  plantation  of  Sir  John 
Colleton,  on  the  south  side  of  Watboo  Creek,  and  a little 
above  the  bridge.  The  situation  pleased  him,  and  it  was 
one  of  his  frequent  places  of  encampment  when  he  happen- 
ed to  be  operating  in  the  vicinity.  The  owner  was  a loy- 
alist and  had  left  the  country.  The  mansion  and  his  ex- 
tensive range  of  negro  houses  afforded  ample  shelter  for 
such  a force  as  that  which  Marion  commanded.  With  the 
gradual  advance  of  Frasier,  Marion  seems  to  have  been 
acquainted,  but  in  the  absence  of  his  cavalry  his  only  mode 
of  obtaining  intelligence  was  through  his  officers.  These 
alone,  of  all  the  party  in  camp,  were  provided  with  horses. 
Of  these,  he  ordered  out  a party  under  Capt.  Gavin 
Witherspoon  to  reconnoitre.  White  they  were  absent, 
Marion  put  his  infantry  in  order  of  battle.  The  main  body 
occupied  an  avenue  of  venerable  cedars,  which,  neglected 
during  the  war,  in  their  untrimmed  state,  stood  overgrown 
with  branches,  their  long  boughs  trailing  almost  to  the 
ground.  His  left,  by  which  the  enemy  was  compelled  to 
advance,  were  placed  under  cover  of  some  of  the  out- 
buildings. Thus  prepared,  he  waited  the  approach  of  the 
British,  though  not  without  sundry  misgivings.  It  must 
be  confessed  that,  at  this  juncture,  he  had  not  the  most 
perfect  confidence  in  the  force  under  his  command.  They 
consisted,  in  great  proportion,  of  those  who,  in  that  day, 
were  known  as  new-made  Whigs — men  who  had  deserted 
the  enemy  and  been  cleansed  of  their  previous  treasons  by 
the  proclamation  of  Governor  Rutledge,  which,  not  long  be- 
fore, had  promised  immunity  to  all  who  came  in  promptly 
with  their  adhesion  and  joined  the  American  ranks.  There 
were  also  present  some  of  those  who,  under  Gainey,  had 
recently  received  the  protection  of  Marion,  on  the  truce 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


321 


ground  of  Pedee.  Major  Gainey  himself  was  among  them, 
and  with  forty  of  his  people,  was  placed  conspicuously  in 
the  column  in  preparation  for  the  British  approach.  Well 
might  Marion  feel  some  uneasiness  at  his  situation,  particu- 
larly in  the  absence  of  the  cavalry  on  which  he  could  rely. 
But  our  partisan  had  the  art  of  securing  the  fidelity  of  those 
around  him,  in  quite  as  great  a degree  as  he  possessed  that 
other  great  military  art,  of  extracting  good  service  out  of 
the  most  dou  tful  materials.  He  concealed  his  apprehen- 
sions, while  he  endeavored  to  dissipate  those  of  his  men 
Meanwile,  Witherspoon,  with  the  reconnoitring  party, 
advanced  but  a little  distance  in  the  woods,  when  they  were 
met  by  the  enemy’s  cavalry  and  instantly  charged.  A 
long  chase  followed,  which  soon  brought  the  pursuers  into 
view  of  the  partisan.  Kis  men  were  half  concealed  be- 
hind the  thick  boughs  of  the  cedars  beneath  which  they 
were  drawn  up.  The  interest  of  the  chase,  as  they  drew 
more  near,  was  increased  by  a little  incident  which  was 
greatly  calculated  to  encourage  the  militia.  When  in  full 
view,  the  horse  of  Witherspoon  failed  him,  or  his  rider 
purposely  fell  behind  to  bring  up  the  rear  of  his  little 
escort.  At  this  sight  a British  dragoon  darted  forward  to 
cut  him  down.  Witherspoon  coolly  suffered  him  to  ad- 
vance until  he  was  almost  within  striking  distance.  With 
sword  uplifted,  the  assailant  had  already  risen  in  his 
stirrups  to  smite,  when,  quick  as  lightning,  Witherspoon, 
who  had  watched  him  narrowly,  poured  the  contents  of 
his  carbine  into  his  breast.  This  was  followed  by  a shout 
from  the  Americans,  and,  with  furious  yells,  the  British 
dashed  forward  upon  Marion’s  left.  The  reconnoitring 
party  melted  before  them,  and  the  infantrj  delivered  their 
fire  with  fatal  effect.  A dozen  saddles  were  instantly 
emptied,  Capt.  Gillies  of  the  British,  who  led  the  charge, 
being  one  of  the  first  victims  The  enemy  si -on  rallied, 
14* 


322  LIFE  OF  MARION. 

and  attempted  first  his  right  and  then  his  left  flank  ; but 
the  evolutions  of  Marion  were  quite  as  ready,  and,  by 
changing  his  front  promptly,  and  availing  himself  of  the 
cover  afforded  by  the  houses  and  the  fences,  he  showed 
the  hazard  of  attempting  a second  charge  to  be  too  great 
for  such  a force  as  that  of  Frasier.  For  an  hour  after,  the 
British  manoeuvred  around  them,  but  without  discovering 
any  opportunity  of  retrieving  or  revenging  their  disaster. 
A single  fire  terminated  this  affair,  and  seldo  i has  a single 
fire,  where  so  small  a front  has  been  engaged,  done  such 
considerable  execution.  One  officer  and  eight  men  were 
instantly  killed  ; three  officers  and  eight  men  wounded ; 
five  horses  fell  dead  upon  the  field,  a few  were  taken  and 
many  wounded.  The  discharge  took  place  at  thirty  paces, 
and  Marion’s  men  usually  fired  with  heavy  buck-shot.  His 
new-made  Whigs  stood  the  test  bravely,  showing  a steadi- 
ness and  courage,  whilst  opposed  to  their  old  allies,  which 
soon  set  the  heart  of  our  partisan  at  ease.  They  had  very 
good  reasons  for  steadiness  and  valor.  They  fought  with 
halters  about  their  necks.  Not  a man  of  them,  if  taken, 
would  have  escaped  the  cord  and  tree.  Marion'  did  not 
lose  a man,  but  he  suffered  a very  serious  loss  of  another 
sort.  In  the  midst  of  the  confusion  of  the  fight,  the  driver 
of  his  ammunition  wagon  took  fright,  and  made  off  with 
his  charge  in  a direction  which  betrayed  its  flight  to  the 
enemy,  who  immediately  sent  a small  detachment,  by 
which  it  was  taken.  Marion  had  no  cavalry  to  recover  it ; 
but  five  of  his  men,  armed  with  the  broad-swords  of  the 
British  whom  they  had  just  slain,  and  mounted  on  their 
captured  horses,  volunteered  to  recover  it.  They  actually 
succeeded  in  rescuing  it  from  the  detachment  by  which 
it  was  taken,  but  could  retain  it  only  till  the  fugitives  could 
reach  their  main  body  and  return  with  a force  to  which 
our  volunteers  could  oppose  no  resistance.  They  were 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


323 


compelled  to  abandon  the  prize,  which,  had  fortune  second- 
ed their  endeavors,  was  certainly  due  to  their  merits.  This 
little  affair  is  a sample  of  that  generous  service  which  it 
was  the  happy  faculty  of  our  partisan  to  extract  from  his 
followers.  It  is  to  tradition  that  we  owe  the  vague  memory 
of  numerous  like  advantages,  of  which  history  preserves 
no  records.  Under  his  guidance,  his  men  seldom  suffered 
panic.  They  fancied  themselves  invincible  when  he  led 
In  the  present  instance  he  declared  that  not  a man  faltered— 
that  he  even  had  to  restrain  their  eagerness,  and  prevent 
them  rushing  out  into  the  open  field,  to  meet  the  charge 
of  the  cavalry.  His  own  coolness  never  deserted  him. 
He  never  lost  sight  of  the  whole  field,  in  the  vehement  ac- 
tion of  a part.  His  keenness  of  vision,  bis  vigilance  of 
watch,  his  promptness  in  opposing  his  best  resources  to  the 
oress  of  danger,  of  covering  his  weak  points,  and  converting 
into  means  and  modes  of  defence  and  extrication,  all  that 
was  available  in  his  situation — were  remarkable  endow 
ments,  which  soon  fixed  the  regards  of  his  followers,  and 
upon  which  they  unhesitatingly  relied.  In  the  absence  ol 
his  cavalry,  a defeat  would  have  been  a route  : his  infan- 
try would  have  been  cut  to  pieces,  and  his  cavalry  sub- 
sequently exposed  to  similar  disaster.  Had  the  latter 
been  present,  the  safety  of  the  British  must  have  de- 
pended solely  on  the  fleetness  of  their  steeds.  With  this 
affair  ended  the  actual  conflicts  of  our  partisan.  His  men 
were  not  yet  disbanded.  He  himself  did  not  yet  retire 
from  the  field  which  he  had  so  often  traversed  in  triumph. 
But  the  occasion  for  bloodshed  was  over.  The  great 
struggle  for  ascendancy  between  the  British  crown  and  her 
colonies  was  understood  to  be  at  an  end.  She  was  pre- 
pared to  acknowledge  the  independence  for  which  they 
had  fought,  when  she  discovered  that  it  was  no  longer  in 
her  power  to  deprive  them  of  it.  She  will  not  require  any 
eulogiuin  at  her  magnanimity  for  her  reluctant  concession, 


CHAPTER  XX. 


The  British  propose  terms  of  Pacification — Rejected  by  the  Civil 
Authorities — They  penetrate  the  Combahee  with  their  Fleet — 
Death  of  Col.  Laurens — Anecdote  of  Marion — Death  of  Wil- 
mot — British  Evacuate  Charleston — Marion  separates  from  his 
Brigade  at  Watboo — His  Military  Genius. 

Though  the  war  in  Carolina  was  understood  to  be  nearly 
at  an  end,  and  the  toils  and  dangers  of  the  conflict  well  nigh 
over,  yet  motives  for  vigilance  still  continued.  There  was 
ample  room  for  vicissitudes.  The  British  still  held  posses- 
sion of  Charleston  and  its  harbor,  hut  they  were  confined 
to  these  narrow  limits.  Here,  watched  on  all  sides  by  the 
impatient  Americans,  they  made  their  preparations  for  a 
reluctant  departure.  The  sole  remaining  contest  between 
the  opposing  armies  lay,  in  the  desire  of  the  one  to  bear 
with  them  as  much  of  the  spoils  of  war  as  possible,  and  of 
the  other  to  prevent  them.  The  greater  motives  for  the 
war  on  both  sides  were  at  an  end.  The  mother  country 
had  declared  her  willingness  to  forego  the  exercise  of  her 
ancient  authority,  and  the  Colonies  were  admitted  to  the 
freedom  which  they  sought.  In  this  state  of  things  neither 
army  attempted  enterprises,  the  result  of  which  could  not 
affect  the  objects  of  either  nation.  Thus  was  spared  the 
unnecessary  shedding  of  blood.  The  forces  under  Greene 
continued  gradually  to  contract  their  limits  ; while  those 
of  General  Leslie  remained  comparatively  quiescent.  The 
British  officer  was  governed  by  a proper  wisdom.  As  the 
eyacuation  of  Charleston  was  determined  on.,  there  was 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


323 


little  use  in  keeping  up  the  appearances  of  a struggle  which 
had  virtually  ceased  to  exist.  He  suggested  accordingly 
to  Greene,  that  an  intercourse  should  be  established  be- 
tween town  and  country,  by  which  the  troops  in  the  for 
mer  might  procure  their  necessary  supplies  in  barter  with 
the  people.  To  provision  his  fleet  and  army  was  his  ob- 
ject. For  this  he  proposed  a cessation  of  hostilities.  It 
is  to  be  regretted  that  this  pacific  proposition  was  not  en- 
tertained. Some  valuable  lives  might  have  been  saved  to 
the  country — we  may  instance  that  of  Col.  Laurens.  Gen- 
eral Greene  was  not  adverse  to  the  proposition,  but  the  civil 
authorities  objected.  Their  reasons  for  opposing  this  hu- 
mane suggestion  are  scarcely  satisfactory.  They  believed 
that  Leslie  only  aimed  to  accumulate  provisions  for  the 
support  of  the  British  forces  in  the  West  Indies,  and  thus 
enable  them  to  prosecute  the  war  more  vigorously  against 
our  French  allies.  This  was  an  objection  rather  urged 
than  felt.  There  was  probably  some  feeling,  some  impa- 
tience of  temper  at  the  bottom,  which  prompted  them  to 
dispute,  at  the  point  of  the  sword,  rather  than  yield  to  any 
suggestions  of  an  enemy  at  whose  hands  they  had  suffered 
such  protracted  injuries.  A little  more  coolness  and  reflec- 
tion might  have  shown  them,  that,  by  refusing  the  applica- 
tion of  Leslie,  they  only  rendered  it  necessary  that  the 
British  should  pay  in  blood  for  those  supplies  for  which 
they  were  not  unwilling  to  pay  in  money.  And  blood  usu 
ally  calls  for  blood.  The  combat  is  never  wholly  on  one 
side.  It  was  virtually  saying  we  can  spare  a few  more 
citizens.  The  concession  might  have  been  made  to  the 
wishes  of  the  British  commander  not  only  without  any 
detriment  to  the' service,  but  with  absolute  benefit  to  the 
people  and  the  army.  The  provisions  which  the  enemy  re- 
quired would  have  found  a good  market  in  Charleston,  and 
the  Nothing,  in  lack  of  which  the  army  ras  suffering  se- 


326 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


verely,  might  have  been  procured  for  them  at  the  same 
place  on  the  most  reasonable  terms.  Besides,  the  rejection 
of  the  overture  was  not  necessarily  a prevention  of  the 
purpose  of  the  British.  The  American  army  was  quite  too 
feeble  either  to  expel  them  from  the  country,  or  to  arrest 
their  foraging  parties.  The  only  effect  of  the  rejection  of 
the  humane  and  pacific  proposition  of  the  British  com- 
mander, was  to  compel  the  preparation  of  that  fleet  of  small 
craft,  which,  under  the  guns  of  his  galleys,  was  now  pene- 
trating the  rivers,  and  rifling  the  grain  from  the  wealthy 
plantations.  We  have  seen  Marion  opposing  himself  to 
this  fleet  at  Georgetown,  and  have  witnessed  their  success 
upon  the  South  Santee.  The  prompt  return  of  our  partisan 
to  the  headwaters  of  Cooper  river,  in  all  probability,  pre- 
served that  neighborhood  from  the  foragers.  With  the 
tidings  of  their  progress  up  the  Combahee,  the  American 
light  brigade,  under  General  Gist,  was  ordered  to  oppose 
them.  It  was  here  that  one  of  those  events  took  place 
which  furnished  a conclusive  commentary  upon  the  ill- 
judged  resolution  by  which  the  cessation  of  hostilities 
was  rejected,  and  the  British  denied  the  privilege  of  pro- 
curing supplies  in  a pacific  manner.  Hearing  of  the  move- 
ment of  Gist,  Col.  Laurens,  who  was  attached  to  his  bri- 
gade, and  was-  always  eager  for  occasions  of  distinction, 
rose  from  a sick  bed  to  resume  the  command  of  his  divi- 
sion. He  overtook  the  brigade  on  the  north  bank  of  the 
Combahee  river,  near  the  ferry.  Twelve  miles  below,  the 
extreme  end  of  Chehaw  neck  protrudes  into  the  bed  of  the 
river, which,  between  these  points,  is  bounded  by  extensive 
swamps  and  rice  fields.  At  this  point  a redoubt  had  been 
thrown  up  by  General  Gist.  The  enemy  was  already 
above,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  stream.  Laurens  solicit- 
ed the  command  of  this  post  for  the  purpose  of  annoying 
them  in  their  retreat.  Meanwhile,  the  American  cavalry 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


327 


under  Major  Call,  had  been  ordered  round  by  Salkehatchie 
bridge,  to  join  with  the  militia  collected  in  that  quarter  for 
the  purpose  of  striking  at  the  enemy.  With  a howitzer, 
some  matrosses  and  fifty  infantry,  Laurens  moved  down  the 
river,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  26th  reached  the  place  of 
Mrs.  Stock,  sufficiently  near  to  Chehaw  Point  to  take  post 
there  by  daylight  the  next  morning.  But  the  British  were 
there  before  him.  Baffled  by  the  light  brigade  of  Gist,  in 
procuring  provisions  on  the  south  side  of  the  river,  they 
had  crossed  it,  and,  apprised  of  the  movements  of  Laurens, 
placed  an  ambush  for  him  on  his  road  to  the  Point.  That 
night  was  spent  by  Laurens  among  the  ladies  of  the  place 
where  he  lingered.  It  is  recorded  that  the  company  did 
not  separate  until-  a couple  of  hours  before  the  time  when 
the  detachment  was  set  in  motion.  The  prospect  of  his 
encounter  was  the  topic  of  conversation,  and  with  the 
cheery,  elastic  spirit  of  youth,  he  gaily  offered  the  ladies  a 
conspicuous  place  from  which  they  might  enjoy  a sight 
of  the  action  without  incurring;  its  dangers.  Before  sun- 
rise  his  voice  was  hushed  for  ever.  Unsuspicious  of  an 
enemy,  he  rode  at  the  head  of  his  command.  The  British 
were  posted  in  a place  thickly  covered  with  fennel  and  high 
grass.  With  the  advance  guard  when  they  were  discover- 
ed, he  promptly  ordered  a charge,  gallantly  leading  which, 
he  fell  at  the  first  fire.  Laurens  was  one  of  those  brave 
and  ardent  spirits,  generous,  high-souled,  and  immaculate, 
which,  in  times  of  sordid  calculation  and  drilled  soldiership, 
recal  to  our  minds  the  better  days  of  chivalry.  He  was 
the  Bayard  of  the  southern  youth  in  the  war  of  the  revolu- 
tion, uniting  all  the  qualities  of  the  famous  chevalier,  sans 
peur  et  sans  reprochs.  That  he  should  have  fallen,  unne- 
cessarily, at  the  close  of  the  war,  wffien  nothing  was  to  be 
gained,  and  nothing  to  be  saved,  by  valor, — and  in  an  ob- 
scure encounter  on  a field  of  mere  predatory  warfare,  doui> 


328 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


les  the  mortification  of  such  a close  to  a noble  and  admira- 
ble career.  A lesson  from  the  pure  and  correct  code  of 
Marion’s  military  morals  would  have  saved  this  precious 
blood,  and  preserved  this  gallant  youth  for  nobler  fortunes. 
The  following  anecdote  will  illustrate  the  admirable  char- 
acter of  his  mode  of  thinking  on  such  subjects.  While  he 
held  his  position  at  Watboo,  after  he  had  beaten  Frasier,  he 
was  advised  that  a British  party,  which  had  been  dispatched 
to  procure  water  at  Lempriere’s  Point,  could  be  cut  off  with 
little  difficulty.  The  British  were  then  preparing  for  em- 
barkation. A parting  blow  was  recommended,  as  calculat- 
ed to  hurry  their  movements,  as  well  as  to  add  something 
to  the  measure  of  patriot  revenge  for  the  wrongs  and  resent- 
ments of  the  past.  But  Marion  resolutely  refused  to  sanc- 
tion the  enterprise.  His  answer  proves  equally  the  excel- 
lence of  his  judgment  and  the  benevolence  of  his  heart. 
“ My  brigade,”  said  he,  “ is  composed  of  citizens,  enough 
of  whose  blood  has  been  shed  already.  If  ordered  to  attack 
the.  enemy,  I shall  obey  ; but  with  my  consent,  not  another 
life  shall  be  lost,  though  the  event  should  procure  me  the 
highest  honors  of  the  soldier.  Knowing,  as  we  do,  that  the 
enemy  are  on  the  eve  of  departure,  so  far  from  offering  to 
molest,  I would  rather  send  a party  to  protect  them.” 

This  noble  feeling  would  have  saved  the  lives  of  Laurens, 
vYilmot,  Moore,  and  other  gallant  young  men,  who  were 
sacrificed  at  the  last  hour  when  all  provocations  to  strife  had 
ceased — when  the  battle  was  already  won — when  the  great 
object  of  the  war  had  been  attained  by  the  one  party,  and 
yielded,  however  reluctantly,  by  the  other.  Capt.  Wilmot, 
with  a small  command,  was  stationed  to  cover  Johns’  Island, 
and  to  watch  the  passage  by  Stono.  Fond  of  enterprise  he 
was  tempted  occasionally  to  cross  the  river  and  harass  the 
enemy  on  James’  Island.  . In  one  of  these  adventures,  un- 
dertaken in  conjunction  with  the  celebrated  Kosciusko. 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


329 


against  an  armed  party  of  the  enemy’s  wood-culters,  he  fell 
into  an  ambuscade,  was  himself  slain,  while  his  second  in 
command,  Lieut.  Moore,  severely  wounded,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  British.  This  was  tire  last  blood  shed  in  the 
American  revolution.  It  need  not  to  have  been  shed.  The 
denouement  of  the  protracted  drama  had  already  taken  place. 
The  conquest  of  the  Indians  by  Pickens  was  complete  ; the 
Tories  no  longer  appeared  in  bodies,  though,  for  some  time 
after,  individuals  of  the  scattered  bands  occasionally  con- 
tinued the  habits  of  outlawry  which  the  war  had  taught 
them,  and  dealt  in  deeds  of  midnight  robbery  and  crime  ; — 
and  the  British  armies  were  simply  preparing  to  depart. 
On  the  14th  of  December,  while  the  American  columns 
entered  the  city  from  the  neck,  those  of  the  British  retired 
to  their  ships  ; the  movements  of  which,  as  their  white  sails 
distended  to  the  breeze,  presented,  in  the  language  of  Moul- 
trie, “ a grand  and  pleasing  sight.”  It  was  a sight,  how- 
ever, which  the  militia,  always  undervalued,  always  mis- 
understood and  misrepresented,  were  not  permitted  to  be- 
hold. They  had  fought  the  battle,  it  was  true,  “ but  the 
civil  authority”  conceived  their  uses  to  be  over,  and  “ they 
were  excluded  as  dangerous  spectators  ;”  an  unworthy  and 
most  ungrateful  decision,  in  which,  we  are  pleased  to  learn 
from  a self-exculpatory  letter  of  General  Greene,  he  had 
no  participation,  and  which  he  did  not  approve. 

The  forces  of  the  British  withdrawn  from  the  shores  of 
Carolina,  the  country,  exhausted  of  resources,  and  filled 
with  malcontents  and  mourners,  was  left  to  recover  slowly 
from  the  hurts  and  losses  of  foreign  and  intestine  strife 
Wounds  were  to  be  healed  which  required  the  assuasive 
hand  of  time,  which  were  destined  to  rankle  even  in  the 
bosoms  of  another  generation,  and  the  painful  memory  of 
which  is  keenly  treasured  even  now  But  the  civil  author- 
ity takes  the  place  of  the  military  and  with  the  disap- 


330 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


pearance  of  the  invader,  the  warrior  lays  aside  his 
sword, — satisfied  if  he  may  still  retain  the  laurels  which 
his  valor  has  won.  Our  partisan,  yielding  himself  at 
the  call  of  his  country,  was  not  the  man  to  linger  unne- 
cessarily long  upon  the  stage.  The  duties  which  had  call- 
ed him  into  the  field  were  faithfully  performed  ; how  faith- 
fully it  has  been  the  effort  of  this  humble  narrative  to  show. 
The  time  was  come  when  he  was  to  part  with  his  brigade 
forever — when  he  was  to  take  leave  of  those  brave  fellows, 
whom  he  had  so  frequently  led  to  victor}7,  never  to  dis- 
honor. The  separation  was  touching,  but  without  parade. 
On  this  occasion  his  deportment  was  as  modest  as  it  had 
been  through  the  whole  period  of  their  connection.  Gath- 
ered around  him  among  the  cedars  at  his  Watboo  encamp- 
ment, his  followers  were  assembled  to  receive  his  last  fare- 
well. The  simplicity  which  had  marked  his  whole  career 
distinguished  its  conclusion.  His  address  was  brief  but  not 
without  its  eloquence— such  eloquence  as  belongs  to  the 
language  of  unaffected  and  unadulterated  truth.  He  ac- 
knowledged, with  thanks,  the  services  of  the  officers  and 
men  ; dwelt  passingly  upon  particular  events  of  which  they 
had  reason  to  be  proud,  and  bade  them  a friendly  and  affec- 
tionate  farewell.  The  brief  review  which  he  made  of  their 
campaigns  was  well  calculated  to  awaken  the  most  touch- 
ing recollections.  He  had  been  their  father  and  protector 
No  commander  had  ever  been  more  solicitous  of  the  safety 
and  comfort  of  his  men.  It  was  this  which  had  rendered 
him  so  sure  of  their  fidelity,  which  had  enabled  him  to  ex- 
tract from  them  such  admirable  service.  His  simple  en- 
treaty stayed  their  quarrels  ; and  the  confidence  which  they 
yielded  to  his  love  of  justice,  made  them  always  willing  to 
abide  the  decisions  of  his  judgment.  Officers  and  men 
equally  yielded  to  the  authority  of  his  opinion,  as  they  did 
to  that  which  he  exercised  in  the  capacity  of  their  com 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


331 


mander.  No  duel  took  place  among  his  officers  during  the 
whole  of  his  command. 

The  province  which  was  assigned  to  his  control  by  Gov- 
ernor Rutledge,  was  the  constant  theatre  of  war.  He  was 
required  to  cover  an  immense  extent  of  country.  With  a 
force  constantly  unequal  and  constantly  fluctuating,  he  con- 
trived to  supply  its  deficiencies  by  the  resources  of  his  own 
vigilance  and  skill.  His  personal  bravery  was  frequently 
shown,  and  the  fact  that  he  himself  conducted  an  enter- 
prise, was  enough  to  convince  his  men  that  they  were  cer- 
tain to  be  led  to  victory.  In  due  degree  with  their  convic- 
tion of  his  care  and  consideration  for  themselves,  was  their 
readiness  to  follow  where  he  commanded.  He  had  no 
lives  to  waste,  and  the  game  he  played  was  that  which  en- 
abled him  to  secure  the  greatest  results,  with  the  smallest 
amount  of  hazard.  Yet, when  thi  occasion  seemed  tore- 
quire  it,  he  could  advance  and  strike  with  an  audacity, 
which,  in  the  ordinary  relations  of  the  leader  with  the  sol- 
dier, might  well  be  thought  inexcusable  rashness.  We 
have,  already,  in  the  opening  of  this  biography,  adverted  to 
the  melancholy  baldness  of  the  memorials  upon  which  the 
historian  is  compelled  to  rely  for  the  materials  of  his  narra- 
tive. The  reader  will  perceive  a singular  discrepancy  be- 
tween the  actual  events  detailed  in  the  life  of  every  popular 
hero,  and  the  peculiar  fame  which  he  holds  in  the  minds  of 
his  countrymen.  Thus,  while  Marion  is  everywhere  re- 
garded as  the  peculiar  representative  in  the  southern  States, 
of  the  genius  of  partisan  warfare,  we  are  surprised,  when 
we  would  trace,  in  the  pages  of  the  annalist,  the  sources  of 
this  fame,  to  find  the  details  so  meagre  and  so  unsatisfac- 
tory. Tradition  mumbles  over  his  broken  memories, which 
we  vainly  strive  to  pluck  from  his  lips  and  bind  together  in 
conerent  and  satisfactory  records.  The  spirited  surprise, 
the  happy  ambush,  the  daring  onslaught,  the  fortunate  es- 


332 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


cape, — these,  as  they  involve  no  monstrous  slaughter — no 
murderous  strife  of  masses, — no  rending  of  walled  towns 
and  sack  of  cities,  the  ordinary  historian  disdains.  The 
military  reputation  of  Marion  consists  in  the  frequent  per- 
formance of  deeds,  unexpectedly,  with  inferior  means,  by 
which  the  enemy  was  annoyed  and  dispirited,  and  the  hearts 
and  courage  of  his  countrymen  warmed  into  corresponding 
exertions  with  his  own.  To  him  we  owe  that  the  fires  of 
patriotism  were  never  extinguished,  even  in  the  most  dis- 
astrous hours,  in  the  low  country  of  South  Carolina.  He 
made  our  swamps  and  forests  sacred,  as  well  because  of  the 
refuge  which  they  gave  to  the  fugitive  patriot,  as  for  the  fre- 
quent sacrifices  which  they  enabled  him  to  make,  on  the 
altars  of  liberty  and  a befitting  vengeance.  We  are  in  pos- 
session of  but  few  of  the  numerous  enterprises  in  which  he 
was  engaged  ; imperfect  memories  of  the  aged  give  us 
glimpses  of  deeds  for  the  particulars  of  which  we  turn  in 
vain  to  the  dusty  pages  of  the  chronicler.  But  we  need 
not  generalize  farther  upon  the  traits  of  his  military  char- 
acter. We  have  endeavored  to  make  these  speak  for 
themselves,  page  by  page,  in  the  narration  of  the  events, 
so  far  as  we  know  them,  by  which  his  reputation  was  ac- 
quired. It  is  enough  that  his  fame  has  entered  largely  into 
that  of  his  country,  forming  a valuable  portion  of  its  sec- 
tional stock  of  character.  His  memory  is  in  the  very  hearts 
of  our  people.  Of  the  estimation  in  which  he  was  held  by 
contemporaries  more  might  be  said,  but  these  pages  bear 
ample  testimony  of  the  consideration  which  he  commanded 
from  friend  and  foe.  The  testimonials  of  Moultrie,  Greene, 
Lee  and  others,  are  conclusive  of  that  rare  worth  and  ex- 
cellence— that  combination  of  military  and  civil  virtues — 
which  biography  cannot  easily  be  found  to  excel. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Marion  retires  to  his  farm,  which  he  finds  in  ruins  — Is  returned 
to  the  Senate  from  St.  John. — His  course  on  the  Confiscation 
Act. — Anecdotes. — Is  made  Commandant  at  Fort  Johnson. — 
His  Marriage. — A member  of  the  State  Convention  in  1794. — 
Withdraws  from  public  life. — His  Death. 

It  was  with  no  reluctance  but  with  the  cheerful  prefer- 
ence which  Marion  had  always  given,  since  manhood,  to 
the  life  of  the  farmer,  that  he  returned  to  its  simple  but 
attractive  avocations.  But  the  world  with  him  was,  as  it 
were,  to  be  begun  anew ; no  easy  matter  to  one  whose 
habits  had  been  necessarily  rendered  irregular  by  the  capri- 
cious and  desultory  influences  of  a military  career ; still 
more  difficult  in  the  case  of  one  who  has  entered  upon  the 
last  period  of  life.  The  close  of  the  Revolution  found  him 
destitute  of  means,  almost  in  poverty,  and  more  than  fifty 
years  old.  His  health  was  good,  however ; his  frame 
elastic;  his  capacity  for  endurance,  seemingly,  as  great  as 
ever.  But  his  little  fortune  had  suffered  irretrievably.  His 
interests  had  shared  the  fate  of  most  other  Southern 
patriots,  in  the  long  and  cruel  struggle  through  which  the 
country  had  gone.  His  plantation  in  St.  John’s,  Berkley, 
lay  within  a mile  of  one  of  the  ordinary  routes  of  the  Bri- 
tish army,  and  his  career  was  not  calculated  to  move  them 
to  forbearance  in  the  case  of  one,  whose  perpetual  activity 
and  skill  so  constantly  baffled  their  designs.  His  estate 
was  ravaged,  and  subjected  to  constant  waste  and  deprr  da- 
tion.  One-half  of  his  negroes  were  taken  away,  and  the 


334 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


rest  only  saved  to  him  by  their  fidelity.  The  refuge  in 
swamp  and  forest  was  as  natural  to  the  faithful  negro,  on 
the  approach  of  the  British  uniforms,  as  to  the  fugitive 
patriot.  Ten  workers  returned  to  him,  when  he  was  pre- 
pared to  resume  his  farm,  but  he  was  destitute  of  every- 
thing beside.  The  implements  of  culture,  plantation  uten- 
sils, household  furniture,  stock,  cattle  and  horses,  clothes 
and  provisions  for  his  people,  were  all  wanting,  and  all  to 
be  purchased,  and  he  penniless.  He  received  no  compen- 
sation for  his  losses,  no  reward  for  his  sacrifices  and  ser- 
vices. The  hope  of  half  pay  was  held  out  to  him  by  his 
more  sanguine  friends,  but  this  promise  was  never  realized. 
But,  wfith  that  cheerful  spirit  which  hopes  all  things  from 
time,  and  a meek  compliance  with  what  it  brings,  Marion 
proceeded  to  work  out  his  deliverance  by  manly  industry, 
and  a devotion  to  his  interests  as  true  as  that  which  he  had 
yielded  to  the  interests  of  his  country.  He  had  become 
fond  of  rural  life,  and  the  temporary  estrangement  of  war 
seemed  only  to  increase  his  desire  for  that  repose  in  action, 
which  the  agricultural  life  in  the  South  so  certainly  secures. 
But  he  was  not  permitted  to  retire  from  public  service. 
The  value  of  his  services  was  too  well  known,  and  there 
was  too  much  yet  to  be  done,  towards  the  repose  and  se- 
curity of  the  country,  to  suffer  them  to  be  dispensed  with. 
He  was  again  returned  to  the  Senate  of  the  State  by  the 
people  of  St.  John’s.  In  this  situation,  he  still  maintained 
those  noble  and  disinterested  characteristics  which  had 
made  him  equally  beloved  and  venerated.  Two  anec- 
dotes are  preserved  of  him  in  his  official  character,  which 
deserve  mention.  Both  of  these  grew  out  of  the  events 
of  the  war.  The  importance  of  the  Confiscation  Act, 
passed  at  the  session  of  January,  1782,  at  Jacksonborough, 
arose  chiefly  from  the  necessity  of  providing  for  the  emer- 
gencies of  the  State  and  military,  during  the  continuance 


LIFE  OF  MARION.  335 

of  the  war.  Under  existing  circumstances,  the  measure 
was  sustained  by  our  partisan.  But  the  case  w'as  altered 
when  the  British  ministry  abandoned  their  pretensions  to 
the  country,  and  when  it  was  left  by  their  armies.  It  was 
then  that  numerous  offenders — those  who  had  been  least 
conspicuous  for  their  Tory  predilections — applied  for  the 
indulgence  and  forbearance  of  the  State.  Petitions  were 
poured  into  the  Legislature,  sustained  by  such  pleas  and 
friends  as  the  circumstances  of  the  suppliants  could  pro- 
cure— excusing  their  conduct,  asserting  their  repentance, 
and  imploring  the  restoration  of  their  possessions.  Marion’s 
course  in  regard  to  these  suppliants  may  be  inferred  from 
his  previous  character.  There  was  nothing  vindictive  in 
his  nature.  He  was  superior  to  the  baser  cravings  of  a 
dogged  vengeance,  and  his  vote  and  voice  declared  his 
magnanimity.  It  so  happened  that  the  first  of  these  peti- 
tions upon  which  he  was  called  to  act,  came  from  one  of 
that  class  of  timid,  time-serving  persons,  who,  with  no 
predilections  for  virtue,  no  sympathy  for  principles  or 
country,  simply  shape  their  course  with  regard  to  safety. 
He  was  a man  of  wealth,  and  the  effect  of  wealth  in  peril- 
ous times  is  but  too  frequently  to  rendei  selfishness  equally 
cowardly  and  dishonest.  The  amount  of  his  offence  con- 
sisted in  trimming,  while  the  strife  was  doubtful,  between 
Whig  and  Tory,  and  siding  with  the  latter  when  the  Bri- 
tish gained  the  ascendency.  He  did  not  take  up  arms,  took 
no  active  part  in  public  affairs,  and  was  content  to  shelter 
his  person  and  poss  essions  under  a cautious  insignificance. 
About  eighteen  months  before,  Marion  had  met  the  peti- 
tioner at  a gathering  of  the  people.  The  latter  approached 
and  offered  our  partisan  his  hand.  But  the  juncture  was 
one  in  which  it  behooveth  patriotism  to  speak  out  at  all 
hazards.  The  struggle  was  for  life  and  death,  on  the  part 
equally  of  Whig  and  Tory.  Marion  knew  the  character 


336 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


of  the  person,  and  disdained  it.  To  the  surprise  of  all, 
who  knew  how  scrupulous  of  insult  he  was, — how  indul- 
gent and  forbearing, — he  turned  away  from  the  trimmer 
and  the  sycophant  without  recognition.  This  treatment 
was  greatly  censured  at  the  time,  and  when  Marion  rose 
in  the  Senate,  to  speak  on  the  subject  of  the  petition  of 
the  man  whom  he  had  so  openly  scorned,  it  was  taken  for 
granted  that  he  would  again  give  utterance  to  feelings  of 
the  sort  which  moved  him  then  The  miserable  offender, 
who  was  himself  present,  grew  pale,  trembled,  and  gave 
up  his  cause  as  lost.  What  was  his  surprise  and  delight 
to  hear  the  venerable  patriot  advocate  his  application ! He 
was  successful  in  obtaining  for  the  suppliant  the  mercy 
which  he  implored.  The  opponents  of  the  petitioner, 
some  of  whom  were  of  that  class  of  patriots  who  hunger 
for  the  division  of  the  spoils,  were  aghast,  and  having 
counted  on  Marion’s  support,  now  loudly  proclaimed  his 
inconsistency.  But  to  these  his  answer  was  equally 
prompt  and  satisfactory.  His  reasons  were  true  to  his 
principles.  He  had  been  governed  in  his  previous  views 
by  the  necessity  of  the  case.  With  the  disappearance  of 
that  necessity  he  recognized  other  laws  and  influences. 
“ Then,”  said  he,  “ it  was  war.  It  is  peace  now.  God 
has  given  us  the  victory  ; let  us  show  our  gratitude  to 
heaven,  which  we  shall  not  do  by  cruelty  to  man.” 

The  expediency  of  humanity  was  always  the  uppermost 
sentiment  with  Marion.  A nobler  expression  of  it  never 
fell  from  the  lips  of  mortal. 

The  next  anecdote  of  the  legislative  career  of  Marion  is 
one  which  directly  related  to  himself.  At  an  early  period 
in  the  action  of  the  Assembly,  after  the  war,  it  was  deemed 
advisable  to  introduce  a b-ill  by  which  to  exempt  from  legal 
investigation  the  conduct  of  the  militia  while  the  war  had 
lasted.  It  was  thought,  justly  enough,  that,  from  the 


LIFE  OF  M ARION. 


33? 


nature  of  the  services  in  which  they  were  engaged,  and 
the  necessities  which  coerced  them,  they  might  need,  in 
numerous  instances,  to  he  sheltered  from  legal  persecution. 
They  had  been  compelled  to  war  with  a heavy  hand,  to 
seize  frequently  upon  private  property,  and  subject  the 
possessions  of  the  citizen  to  the  exigencies  of  the  commu- 
nity The  necessities  of  the  service  being  recognized,  the 
Legislature  were  ready  to  justify  them  ; and  the  Act  which 
was  prepared  for  the  purpose,  included  amongst  others, 
thus  specially  exempted,  the  name  of  Marion.  But, 
scarcely  had  it  been  announced  from  the  paper,  when  the 
venerable  man  arose,  and  with  flushed  cheeks  and  emphatic 
brevity,  demanded  that  his  name  should  be  expunged  from 
the  catalogue.  He  declared  himself  friendly  to  the  Bill — 
he  believed  it  to  be  equally  just  and  necessary ; but  for 
his  own  part,  as  he  was  not  conscious  of  any  wrong  of 
which  he  had  been  guilty,  he  was  not  anxious  for  any  im- 
munity. “ If,”  said  he,  “ I have  given  any  occasion  for 
complaint,  I am  ready  to  answer  in  property  and  person 
If  I have  wronged  any  man  I am  willing  to  make  him  res- 
titution. If,  in  a single  instance,  in  the  course  of  my  com- 
mand, I have  done  that  which  I cannot  fully  justify,  jus- 
tice requires  that  I should  suffer  for  it.” 

So  proud  was  his  integrity,  so  pure  and  transparent  was 
his  happy  consciousness  of  a mind  fixed  only  on  good,  and 
regulated  by  the  sternest  rules  of  virtue,  and  the  nicest 
instincts  of  gentleness  and  love.  The  Bill  passed  into  a 
law,  but  the  name  of  Marion,  omitted  at  his  requisition, 
is  nowhere  present,  as  showing  that  he  needed  other  secur- 
ity than  that  which  is  afforded  to  the  meanest  citizen  under 
the  keenest  scrutiny  of  justice. 

Marion  did  not  confine  his  objections  to  the  continued 
operation  of  the  Confiscation  Act,  to  the  single  instance 
which  we  have  given.  We  have  reason  to  believe  that 

15 


338 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


his  labors  to  remedy  its  hardships,  and  restrain  its  seven- 
ties, were  uniform  and  unremitting.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  he  favored  the  original  bill.  He  considered  it  a war 
measure,  and  necessary  to  the  prosecution  of  the  war.  The 
propriety  of  the  distinction  which  he  made  just  after  the 
war  was  over,  obvious  enough  to  us  now,  was  not  so  evi- 
dent at  a season  when  the  victors  were  looking  after  the 
division  of  the  spoils.  The  subject  became  one  of  consid- 
erable excitement,  and  we  may  say  in  this  place,  that, 
after  time  had  mollified  the  popular  feeling  in  some  degree, 
the  State  admitted  the  greater  number  of  the  offenders  to 
mercy  and  restored  their  estates.  But  there  is  reason  to 
believe  that  the  humane  sentiments  which  Marion  taught, 
were  not  universal,  and  met  with  most  violent  opposition. 
His  feelings  on  the  subject  were  not  only  declared  with 
franknesss,  but  with  warmth  and  energy.  Dining  at  the 
table  of  Governor  Matthews,  while  the  strife  was  highest, 
he  was  called  upon  by  his  Excellency  for  a toast.  Lifting 
his  glass,  with  a smile,  he  promptly  gave  the  following, — 
“ Gentlemen,  here’s  damnation  to  the  Confiscation  Act.” 

Though,  in  the  language  of  Moultrie,  “ born  a soldier,” 
and  yielding  so  many  of  his  youthful  and  maturer  years  to 
the  habits  of  the  camp  and  field,  there  was  nothing  of  a 
harsh  or  imperious  nature  in  his  temper  or  his  manner. 
The  deportment  of  the  mere  soldier  seems  to  have  been 
his  aversion.  He  preferred  the  modest  and  forbearing 
carriage  which  is  supposed  to  belong  more  distinctly  to 
civil  than  to  military  life.  No  novelty  of  situation,  no 
provocation  of  circumstance,  nothing  in  the  shape  of  an- 
noyance or  disaster,  was  suffered  so  to  ruffle  his  mood  as 
to  make  him  heedless  or  indifferent  to  the  claims  or  sensi- 
bilities of  others.  He  never  conceived  that  any  of  his  vir- 
tues gave  him  a right  to  trespass  upon  the  proprieties  of 
social  or  public  life.  An  anecdote  is  related  of  him  which 


LIFE  OF  MARION 


339 


illustrates  the  veneration  which  he  entertained  for  the  regu- 
lations of  society  and  law.  It  appears  that,  when  the  war 
was  over,  one  of  his  closest  intimates  and  nearest  friends — 
one  whom  he  had  trusted  long,  and  who  had  shared  with 
him  in  all  his  campaigns,  stood  within  the  perils  of  the  law 
for  some  offence  of  which  the  facts  have  not  been  preserved. 
Presuming  upon  his  well-known  services,  and  the  favor  in 
which  he  was  held  by  the  public,  he  refused  to  submit  to 
the  ordinary  legal  process,  and  bade  defiance  to  the  sher- 
iff. While  maintaining  this  position,  Mai'ion  sought  him 
out.  He  used  no  argument  to  convince  the  offender  of  his 
error,  for  that,  he  felt  assured,  the  other  sufficiently  knew. 
But  he  addressed  him  in  a style,  and  with  words,  which 
conveyed  much  more  than  any  ordinary  argument.  “ De- 
liver yourself,”  said  he,  “into  the  hands  of  justice — sub- 
mit to  the  process  of  the  sheriff,  and  my  heart  and  hand 
are  yours  as  before; — resist, — refuse,  — and  we  are  sepa- 
rated for  ever.”  It  need  not  be  said  that  under  such  an 
exhortation  the  refractory  spirit  was  subdued.  How  much 
to  he  regretted  it  is  that  so  few  anecdotes  have  been  pre- 
served of  his  character,  illustrating  a fife  which,  according 
' to  all  testimony,  was  consistent  throughout  in  a just  appre- 
ciation of  all  that  was  pure,  virtuous,  and  becoming,  in  the 
character  of  the  individual  man. 

Early  in  the  year  1783,  the  following  resolutions  passed 
in  the  Senate  of  South  Carolina,  Marion,  who  was  a mem- 
ber not  being  present  at  that  time  : 

Senate,  South  Carolina,  » 
February  26,  1783.  j 

“ Resolved,  nem.  con.,  That  the  thanks  of  this  House 
be  given  to  Brigadier  General  Marion,  in  his  place,  as  a 
member  of  this  House,  for  his  eminent  and  conspicuous 
services  to  his  country. 


340 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


“ Resolved,  nem.  con.,  That  a gold  medal  he  given  to 
Brigadier  General  Marion,  as  a mark  of  public  approbation 
for  his  great,  glorious,  and  meritorious  conduct.” 

Two  days  after,  Marion  being  in  his  place  in  the  Senate, 
the  President  took  occasion  to  convey  to  him  the  sense  of 
these  resolutions,  in  a neat  and  highly  laudatory  speech. 
He  said,  among  other  things — 

“ When  I consider  the  occasion  which  calls  me  to  ad- 
dress you,  I am  filled  with  inexpressible  pleasure ; but 
when  I reflect  on  the  difficulty  of  doing  justice  to  your  dis- 
tinguished merit,  I feel  my  own  inefficiency.  What  senti- 
ments or  words  shall  I make  use  of  equal  to  the  task ! I 
scarce  dare  trust  my  own,  especially  after  what  has  been 
said  by  several  honorable  persons  on  this  floor,  respecting 
your  great,  your  glorious,  and  meritorious  conduct ; and  I 
most  earnestly  wish,  for  my  own  sake,  for  yours,  Sir,  and 
for  the  honor  of  this  House,  that  I could  avail  myself  of 
then-  eloquence.  . . . Your  conduct  merits  the  ap- 

plause of  your  countrymen — your  courage,  your  vigilance, 
and  your  abilities,  have  exceeded  their  most  sanguine  ex- 
pectations ; and  have  answered  all  their  hopes.  Whilst 
the  virtue  of  gratitude  shall  form  a part  of  our  national 
character,  your  important  services  to  this  country  can  nev- 
er be  forgotten,”  &c. 

To  this  Marion  replied  with  simple  brevity  : 

“ Mr.  President  : The  approbation  which  this  House 
have  given  of  my  conduct,  in  the  execution  of  my  duty 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


341 


gives  me  very  pleasing  and  heartfelt  satisfaction.  The 
honor  which  they  have  conferred  on  me  this  day,  by  their 
thanks,  will  he  remembered  with  gratitude.  I shall  always 
be  ready  to  exert  my  abilities  for  the  good  of  the  state  and 
the  liberties  of  her  inhabitants.  I thank  you,  Sir,  for  the 
polite  manner  in  which  you  have  conveyed  to  me  the 
thanks  of  the  Senate.” 


Whether  the  medal  was  really  given,  or  only  voted, 
is  a fact  that  we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining.  It 
is  to  be  feared  that  the  action  of  the  Senate  went  no 
farther  than  the  resolution  and  the  speech.  It  probably 
remains  a reproach  against  the  republic,  in  this,  as  in 
numerous  other  instances,  that,  knowing  what  gratitude 
required,  we  would  yet  forego  the  satisfaction  of  the  debt. 
, Cheaply,  at  best,  was  our  debt  to  Marion  satisfied,  with  a 
gold  medal,  or  the  vote  of  one,  while  Greene  received  ten 
thousand  guineas  and  a plantation.  We  quarrel  not  with 
the  appropriation  to  Greene,  but  did  Marion  deserve 
less  from  Carolina  1 Every  page  of  her  history  answers 
“ No !” 


By  the  Legislative  session  of  1784,  Fort  Johnson,  in  the 
harbor  of  Charleston,  was  fitted  up  and  garrisoned  by  the 
State.  In  the  unstable  condition  of  things,  so  immediately 
after  the  war,  some  such  fortress  might  well  be  deemed 
essential  to  the  security  of  the  port.  Marion  was  appointed 
Commandant  of  the  Fort,  with  an  annual  salary  of  <£500. 
The  office  was  in  all  probability  made  for  him.  His  neces- 
sities were  known,  and  its  salary  was  intended  to  com- 
pensate him  for  his  losses  during  the  war.  But  the  duties 
of  the  office  were  nominal.  Even  its  possible  uses  soon 


M2 


LiFii  OF  MARION. 


ceased  to  be  apparent;  and,  with  a daily  increasing  sense 
)f  security,  the  people  murmured  at  an  appropriation  which 
they  considered  unnecessarily  burdensome.  The  common 
mind  could  not  well  perceive  that  the  salary  was  not  so 
much  yielded  for  what  was  expected  of  the  office,  as  for 
what  had  already  been  performed.  It  was  not  given  for 
present,  but  for  past  services.  It  was  the  payment  of  a 
debt  incurred,  not  a simple  appropriation  for  the  liquidation 
of  one  growing  out  of  current  performances.  Legislative 
reformers  waged  constant  war  against  it,  and  it  was  finally 
cut  down  to  five  hundred  dollars.  A smile  of  fortune, — 
one  of  the  fairest  perhaps,  that  had  ever  shone  on  our 
hero, — -just  then  relieved  him  from  the  mortifying  necessity 
of  holding  a sinecure  which  his  fellow  citizens  pronounced 
an  incumbrance.  It  had  been  observed  by  his  friends  that 
there  was  a lady  of  good  family  and  considerable  wealth, 
who  appeared  to  take  a more  than  ordinary  interest  in 
hearing  of  his  exploits.  Modest  and  reserved  himself,  Mar- 
ion was  not  conscious  of  the  favorable  impression  which  he 
had  made  upon  this  lady.  It  was  left  for  others  to  discov- 
er the  state  of  her  affections.  They  remarked  the  delight 
with  which,  like 

“ The  gentle  lady  wedded  to  the  Moor,” 
she  listened  to  the  tale  of  his  achievements,  his 

“Hair-breadth  'scapes  in  th’  imminent  deadly  breach, 

Of  being  taken  by  the  insolent  foe,” — 

and  they  augured  favorably  of  the  success  of  any  desire 
which  he  might  express  to  make  her  the  sharer  in  his 
future  fortunes.  On  this  hint  he  spake.  Miss  Mary 
Videau,  like  himself,  came  of  the  good  old  Huguenot  stock, 
the  virtues  of  which  formed  our  theme  in  the  opening 
chapter  of  this  narrative.  He  proposed  to  her  and  was 
accepted  Neither  of  them  was  young  It  was  not  in 


LIFE  OF  MARION.  343 

the  heyday  of  passion  that  they  loved.  The  tie  that 
bound  them  sprang  from  an  affection  growing  out  of  a just 
appreciation  of  then-  mutual  merits.  She  is  reported  to 
have  somewhat  resembled  him  as  well  in  countenance  as 
character.  She  certainly  shared  warmly  in  his  interests 
and  feelings.  She  readily  conformed  to  his  habits  no  less 
than  his  wishes — partook  of  his  amusements,  shared  his 
journeys — which  were  frequent — and  still,  in  his  absence, 
could  listen  with  as  keen  a zest  to  his  praises,  as  before 
their  marriage.  During  the  summer  months,  it  was  his 
almost  yearly  custom  to  retire  to  the  mountains  of  the  in- 
terior. She  was  always'  his  companion.  On  such  occa- 
sions, he  was  guilty  of  a piece  of  military  ostentation  of 
which  nobody  could  have  accused  him  while  a military 
man.  He  had  preserved  carefully,  as  memorials  of  an 
eventful  history,  his  marquee,  camp  bed,  and  cooking 
utensils,  just  as  he  had  done  while  in  the  Brigade,  during 
the  last  twelve  months  of  his  military  life.  These  were 
carefully  taken  with  him ; and,  with  his  faithful  servant 
Oscar,  and  his  two  sumpter  mules,  were  still  the  compan- 
ions of  his  wanderings.  They  were  coupled  no  doubt 
with  many  associations  as  interesting  to  his  heart  as  they 
were  trying  to  his  experience.  They  were,  perhaps, 
doubly  precious,  as  they  constituted  the  sum  total  of  all  that 
he  had  gathered — besides  an  honorable  fame — from  his 
various  campaignings. 

The  marriage  of  Marion,  like  that  of  Washington,  was 
without  fruits.  This  may  have  bathed  some  hopes,  and  in 
some  degree  qualified  his  happiness,  but  did  not  impair  his 
virtues.  He  adopted  the  son  of  a relative,  to  whom  he 
gave  his  own  name,  in  the  hope  of  perpetuating  it  in  the 
family,  but  even  this  desire  has  been  defeated,  since  the 
heir  thus  chosen,  though  blessed  with  numerous  children, 
was  never  so  fortrmate  as  to  rear  a son. 


344 


LIFE  OF  M A It  1 O K 


In  tlie  decline  of  life,  in  the  modest  condition  of  the  farm- 
er, Marion  seems  to  have  lived  among  his  neighbors, 
very  much  as  the  ancient  patriarch,  surrounded  by  his 
flock.  He  was  honored  and  beloved  by  all.  His  dwelling 
was  the  abode  of  content  and  cheerful  hospitality.  Its 
doors  were  always  open;  and  the  chronicler  records  that  it 
had  many  chambers.  Here  the  stranger  found  a ready 
welcome,  and  his  neighbors  a friendly  counsellor,  to  the 
last.  His  active  habits  were  scarcely  lessened  in  the  lat- 
ter years  of  life.  His  agricultural  interests  were  managed 
judiciously,  and  his  property  underwent  annual  increase. 
Nor  did  his  domestic  interests  and  declining  years  prevent 
him  from  serving  the  public  still.  He  still  held  a com- 
mission in  the  militia,  and  continued  to  represent  the  par- 
ish of  St.  John’s,  in  the  Senate  of  the  State.  In  May, 
1790,  we  find  him  sitting  as  a member  of  the  Convention 
for  forming  the  State  Constitution ; but  from  this  period 
he  withdrew  from  public  life,  and,  in  1794,  after  the  reor- 
ganization of  the  State  militia,  he  resigned  his  commission 
in  that  service  to  which  he  had  done  so  much  honor.  On 
this  occasion  he  was  addressed  by  an  assembly  of  the  citi- 
zens of  Georgetown,  through  a special  committee  of  four, 
in  the  following  language.* 

“ Citizen  General — At  the  present  juncture,  when  the 
necessity  of  public  affairs  requires  the  military  of  this 
State  to  be  organized  anew,  to  repel  the  attacks  of  an 
enemy  from  whatever  quarter  they  may  be  forced  upon 
us ; we,  the  citizens  of  the  district  of  Georgetown,  finding 
you  no  longer  at  our  head,  have  agreed  to  convey  to  you 
our  grateful  sentiments  for  your  former  numerous  services. 
In  the  decline  of  life,  when  the  merits  of  the  veteran  are 
too  often  forgotten,  we  wish  to  remind  you  that  yours  are 

* The  committee  consisted  of  Messrs.  William  I).  James,  Robe*- 
Brownfield,  Thomas  Mitchell  and  Joseph  Blythe. 


I I K 11  UK  M A R I O N . 


3-15 

still  fresh  in  the  remembrance  of  your  fellow  citizens. 
Could  it  be  possible  for  men  who  have  served  and  fought 
under  you,  to  he  now  forgetful  of  that  General,  by  whose 
prudent  conduct  their  lives  have  been  saved  and  their  fami- 
lies preserved  from  being  plundered  by  a rapacious  enemy  ? 
We  mean  not  to  flatter  you.  At  this  time  it  is  impossible 
to  suspect  it.  Our  present  language  is  the  language  of 
freemen,  expressing  only  sentiments  of  gratitude.  Your 
achievements  may  not  have  sufficiently  swelled  the  historic 
page.  They  were  performed  by  those  who  could  better 
wield  the  sword  than  the  pen — by  men  whose  constant 
dangers  precluded  them  from  the  leisure,  and  whose  neces- 
sities deprived  them  of  the  common  implements  of  writing. 
But  this  is  of  little  moment.  They  remain  recorded  in 
such  indelible  characters  upon  our  minds,  that  neither 
change  of  circumstances,  nor  length  of  time,  can  efface 
them.  Taught  by  us,  our  children  shall  hereafter  point 
out  the  places,  and  say,  ‘ here , General  Marion,  posted  to 
advantage,  made  a glorious  stand  in  defence  of  the  liberties 
of  his  country — there , on  disadvantageous  ground,  retreated 
to  save  the  lives  of  his  fellow  citizens.’  What  could  be 
more  glorious  for  the  General,  commanding  freemen,  than 
thus  to  fight,  and  thus  to  save  the  lives  of  his  fellow  sol- 
diers % Continue,  General,  in  peace,  to  till  those  acres 
which  you  once  wrested  from  the  hands  of  an  enemy. 
Continue  to  enjoy  dignity  accompanied  with  ease,  and  te 
lengthen  out  your  days  blessed  with  the  consciousness  of 
conduct  unaccused  of  rapine  or  oppression,  and  of  actions 
ever  directed  by  the  purest  patriotism.” 

The  artless  language  of  this  address  was  grateful  to  the 
venerable  patriot.  In  its  truth  and  simplicity  lay  its  force 
and  eloquence.  It  had  truly  embodied  in  a single  sentence 
the  noble  points  of  his  career  and  character.  He  lived  in 
the  delightful  cot  sciousness  of  a pure  mind,  free  from  accu- 


246 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


sation — and  no  higher  eulogy  could  be  conferred  upon  the 
captain  of  citizen  soldiers,  than  to  say,  he  never  -wantonly 
exposed  their  lives,  but  was  always  solicitous  of  their 
safety.  To  this  address  his  answer  was  verbal.  He  no 
longer  used  the  pen.  The  feebleness  of  nature  was  making 
itself  understood.  That  he  felt  himself  failing  mny  he  in- 
ferred from  his  withdrawal  from  all  public  affairs.  But  his 
mind  was  cheerful  and  active  to  the  last.  He  still  saw  his 
friends  and  neighbors,  and  welcomed  their  coming — could 
still  mount  his  horse  and  cast  his  ‘ eye  over  his  acres.' 
The  progress  of  decline,  in  his  case,  was  not  of  that  humi- 
liating kind,  by  which  the  faculties  of  the  intellect  are 
clouded,  and  the  muscles  of  the  body  made  feeble  and  in- 
competent. He  spoke  thoughtfully  of  the  great  concerns 
of  life,  of  death,  and  of  the  future ; declared  himself  a 
Christian,  an  humble  believer  in  all  the  vital  truths  of 
religion.  As  of  the  future  he  entertained  no  doubt,  so  of 
the  awful  transition  through  the  valley  and  shadow  of 
death,  he  had  no  fear.  “ Death  may  he  to  others,”  said 
he,  “ a leap  in  the  dark,  but  I rather  consider  it  a resting- 
place  where  old  age  may  throw  off  its  burdens.”  He 
died,  peaceful  and  assured,  with  no  apparent  pain,  and 
without  regret,  at  his  residence  in  St.  John’s  parish,  on  the 
27tli  day  of  February,  1795,  having  reached  the  mature  and 
mellow  term  of  sixty -three  years.  His  last  words  declared 
his  superiority  to  all  fears  of  death ; “ for,  thank  God,” 
said  he,  “ I can  lay  my  hand  on  my  heart  and  say  that, 
since  I came  to  man’s  estate,  I have  never  intentionally 
done  wrong  to  any.” 

Thus  died  Francis  Marion,  one  of  the  noblest  models  of 
the  citizen  soldier  that  the  world  has  ever  produced. 
Brave  without  rashness,  prudent  without  timidity,  firm 
without  arrogance,  resolved  without  rudeness,  good  with- 
out cant.,  and  virtuous  without  presumption.  His  mortal 


LIFE  OF  MARION. 


347 


remains  are  preserved  at  Belle-Isle,  St.  Stephen’s  parish 
The  marble  slab  which  covers  them  bears  the  following 
inscription  : — “ Sacred  to  the  memory  of  Brigadier-General 
Francis  Marion,  who  departed  this  life  on  the  27th  Feb., 
1795,  in  the  sixty-third  year  of  his  age,  deeply  regretted 
by  all  his  fellow  citizens.  History  will  record  his  worth, 
and  rising  generations  embalm  his  memory,  as  one  of  the 
most  distinguished  patriots  and  heroes  of  the  American 
Revolution ; which  elevated  his  native  country  to  honor 
and  Independence,  and  secured  to  her  the  blessings  of 
liberty  and  peace.  This  tribute  of  veneration  and  grati- 
tude is  erected  in  commemoration  of  the  noble  and  dis- 
interested virtues  of  the  citizen,  and  the  gallant  exploits 
of  the  soldier,  who  lived  without  fear,  and  died  without 
reproach.” 

This  inscription  was  the  tribute  of  an  individual,  not  of 
the  country.  The  State  of  South  Carolina  has  conferred 
his  name  upon  one  of  its  district  divisions.  But  a proper 
gratitude,  not  to  speak  of  policy,  would  seem  to  require 
more ; — 

“ If  it  be  we  love 

His  fame  and  virtues,  it  were  well,  methinks, 

To  link  them  with  his  name  i’  the  public  eye, 

That  men,  who  in  the  paths  of  gainful  trade, 

Do  still  forget  the  venerable  and  good. 

May  have  such  noble  monitor  still  nigh. 

And,  musing  at  his  monument,  recal. 

Those  precious  memories  of  the  deeds  of  one 
Whose  life  were  the  best  model  for  their  son&” 


Date  Due 


nsclB’SSV 

MAR  1 1 *53 

D01690296X 


